The Eye of Odin
by AndromedaStarr
Summary: Nate and Sully hunt down an ancient Norse artifact with the aid of a young treasure hunter. Features a heist, climbing, mercenaries, a daring rescue, sexual tension, a large dog, and alcohol, among other things. Nate/Elena, Sully/OFC. Please review.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I wrote this story in about a week, and I'm insanely proud of it. That having been said, I admit to having taken great liberties with Norse mythology, Scandinavian geography and culture, characters' personalities, and basically pretty much everything. I did spend forever researching on Wikipedia, though, so please either just suspend your disbelief or provide helpful suggestions where I have things obviously wrong so I can make necessary changes. (I'm an overworked law student in the Caribbean; I have zero personal experience with climbing mountains in Iceland, drinking in bars in Norway, and more or less everything you see here.)

Also, I had to beta this story myself, and I did not write it in chronological order so if you find a continuity error or something that doesn't make sense in retrospect, please let me know. Lastly, if my OFC is a Mary Sue and makes your brain hurt, I apologize and humbly offer a virtual cup of coffee to make amends.

Reviews are greatly appreciated.

* * *

><p>"I know what you're looking for." She was in her early twenties, bronze hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, casually dressed in dark jeans and a black jacket. She sat down uninvited. "The Eye of Odin."<p>

Nate had opened his mouth to tell her it was none of her business, but now he paused. "What do you know about Odin's Eye?"

"Legend has it that Odin hung from Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life, for nine days and nine nights, pierced by his own spear, in order to learn the runes. Later he gave an eye to drink from the Well of Wisdom. The sacrifice was accepted, and the Eye remains at the bottom of the Well. And of course, there are stories…stories that Odin's Eye is a real artifact and that the one who possesses it gains sight like that of the gods. The power to see everything everywhere at once, the fine links between people, in nature, to understand how everything works. The idea might not sound terribly exciting, but practically speaking the person with Odin's Eye would have enormous power."

He stared. "Who the hell _are_ you?"

"Cassandra Barlow." She held out a hand, and he shook it. A single silver ring with a deep blue sapphire gleamed on her middle finger. "I'm an archaeologist of sorts."

"Nathan Drake." Nate raised an eyebrow. "Yeah…uh, forgive me, but you barely look old enough to drink."

She smirked. "I'm older than I look. And I'm in the business of finding treasure. I can help you, if you want."

"Listen, I've had adventures you wouldn't believe. Literally, you wouldn't believe me if I told you. I'm used to this. So thanks, but I think I got it covered."

"You'll forgive me if I think otherwise."

He tilted his head. "Excuse me?"

She tapped the map that lay on the table. "This coastline is incorrect for the time period. You're looking in entirely the wrong place. There's a slab of stone, part of a temple to the Norse gods, at the Volkosk Museum in Norway. It's inscribed with the first known telling of the story of how Odin gave up his eye. The location of the Well of Wisdom must be there."

Nate looked at her, trying to size up her character. The last thing he wanted to do was trust someone who would do what Harry Flynn had done. Light brown eyes stared back fearlessly. "This stone," he said. "It wouldn't be in the public exhibit, would it? Or maybe there are pictures of it on the internet?"

She shook her head. "Sorry. It's fragile from all the extreme weather, and it's written in such an obscure dialect of Old Norse that nobody is really one hundred percent sure of exactly what it says. There's a select group of scholars currently studying it, it's not available to a soul outside of that group and they're all sworn to secrecy."

"So how will this help us?"

"If we find a way to get to the stone and take detailed photos, or maybe rubbings, I have a friend who can translate them. He used to work on a similar project, translating the same kind of glyphs about Ragnarok, but they let him go when his translation was not at all what they wanted to hear."

The story sounded crazy, but Nate had to admit that he was impressed. "Are you asking me to break into a museum?"

"Who's breaking into a museum?" Sully was back from the bar with three beers. He put Nate's before him and one in front of Cassandra. "Victor Sullivan, at your service."

"Cassandra Barlow." She shook his hand and raised the beer in a toast of thanks. "I was just talking to Nathan about Odin's Eye."

Nate summarized the situation as the smoke from Sully's cigar filled the air. "Well," the older man said when he was finished, "it's not like you've never broken into a museum before."

"Yeah, and if you'll recall, that did not go so well."

"Listen," Cassandra interjected, "I can see that you like the idea of breaking and entering, but there _are_ other ways to do things."

Nate looked mystified. "Like what?"

She sighed, shook her head, and told them her plan. Sully nodded approvingly. "You got balls, kid. I mean, well…"

"I most definitely do not have balls, but I appreciate the sentiment," she said, and smiled. They held eye contact for a moment longer than was strictly necessary.

"It could work," Nate admitted. "But impersonating a federal officer...I don't think it's actually as easy as they make it look in the movies. Have you done this before?"

"In my line of work, I play with the law on a regular basis."

He raised an eyebrow. "As an archaeologist?"

"You're thinking about sifting dirt and toothbrushes, although I don't know why since clearly you never do stuff like that. I'm more like Indiana Jones, but I try to keep it as cerebral as possible. More reading and white-collar crime, less snakes and booby-trapped temples."

"Oh, I get a lot of those."

"There's one more tiny detail."

Nate paused. "Tiny detail?"

"We need a helmet from a private collector."

"A helmet? What for?"

"The legend says that the Eye can only be claimed by one who is worthy, right? Well, 'worthy', in this case, means wearing the helmet of Lifthrasir. Lifthrasir and his wife Lif are the only two humans to survive Ragnarok, so he's the only one who can be deserving of the power given by Odin's Eye."

"Well, if the Well of Wisdom exists, we could just drink from it and not bother with the Eye at all," Nate said.

"Odin, the father of all gods, had to give an eye for the privilege. What do you think you would have to sacrifice?"

"Kid," Sully said, biting on his cigar, "this all sounds incredibly complicated. How much is this thing worth, anyway?"

Cassandra stared at him. "We're talking about the _eye_ of a _god_. You can't _sell_ the Eye of Odin. Maybe you could use it to help you make money, but if it fell into the wrong hands..."

"Great." Nate sighed. "Just like the statue, and just like the resin. I need a _real_ job."

"Just like the what?"

"Long goddamn story," Sully supplied.

"So let me ask you something. Since you know all this stuff about the Well of Wisdom and Odin's Eye, why did you never go after it yourself? Is it even an eye at all? I mean, face it, the thing's mythological, it could just be a metaphor, or not exist at all. I mean, a god's eye? Really?"

"You might not know this, because I had to cover it up for the sake of my life, but I found the tomb of Alexander the Great. You know the legends about it being guarded by undead warriors and all that? They're not legends. I have experience with the impossible. The Eye is real. I don't know whether it's an actual eye, like a human eye, but if we find this thing and you can use it, it will make you all the money you could ever want."

"Undead warriors, huh?" Sully jabbed the glowing end of his cigar in her direction. "Why should we believe you?"

"You don't have to. Hell, I just overheard the conversation and thought I'd offer my two cents. You don't want it, I'll get it myself." Cassandra got up from the stool, nodded to them. "Thanks for the beer, Victor."

"Wait a minute." Nate held up a hand. "Look, I don't know how much you know about me, if you know anything about me, but my last 'job' was a museum heist that ended up with my partner betraying me and me spending three months in a Turkish prison. After that, it snowballed into me getting shot in Tibet, shenanigans with some immortals, and finding Shambhala. Also, the Tree of Life. All of which is completely unbelievable to an outsider and all of which made me no money. So…maybe you can understand why I might be a little hesitant to jump back in headfirst."

"You'll have to forgive Nate, he's had a rough year." Sully leaned forward, the silver threads in his dark hair catching the light. "What he means to say is yes, we're in, thank you for your insight, it will be a pleasure working with you."

"Whoa there, hang on. _We_? I distinctly remember you saying you were getting too old for this and running away to take a vacation somewhere warm."

"Old? Me?" Sully waved a hand dismissively. "I can still climb and shoot with the best of them."

Nate turned to Cassandra. "Are you staying here?"

"I haven't booked a room yet, I'm just in from the airport. My car's outside with all my stuff."

"Sully, get her a room. We'll need to get more information about the museum in Volkosk, and deal with everything else. Plus, I could really use a rest. We should be able to leave in about a week."

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks." She stood. "I think you'll find that I can climb and shoot pretty well myself."


	2. Chapter 2

Sully, bag in hand, hit the elevator button and glanced at the girl next to him. She was definitely pretty – very pretty, in fact – and he could tell from the way she carried herself that she was both strong and quick on her feet. Maybe she practiced a martial art or two. There was an indistinct bulge at her lower back that might have been a gun.

"Carrying?" he asked lightly.

She caught his meaning. "It's a .45. I have a licence for it, if you're worried."

"Why would I be worried? We're on the same side, right?" He pressed the elevator button again. "Where the hell is this goddamn thing, anyway?"

She caught his wrist before he could hit it again. "You know, that doesn't actually make it come faster. What floor are you guys on?"

"Fourteenth, same as you. Right across the hall." He glanced down; her fingers still formed a loose bracelet. "Not that I'm complaining, but –"

"Sorry." She pulled her hand back, shoved them both into her jacket pocket. Her cheeks were slightly pink.

A soft ding signalled the arrival of the elevator, and they stepped in. The no smoking sign lit up, and Sully grumbled something derogatory at it before stubbing out his cigar on a wall panel. The spicy tobacco smell lingered as the elevator rose through the building, floors cycling along the display one by one. Finally, they reached the fourteenth and the doors slid open.

Her room was 1402, directly opposite 1403. She unlocked the door and surveyed the small but comfortable-looking space. It held little more than a table and chairs, couch, bed, and bathroom, but notably there was also a bar, which Sully gravitated toward immediately after putting down her bag.

"Drink?" he offered. "There's vodka."

"I'm more a bourbon girl myself."

He smiled. "My kind of woman."

"Make it neat. Oh, and you can relight your cigar."

"Smoke?"

She held up a battered packet of kreteks and slid one into her mouth as she opened her laptop with the other hand. "There's only one known picture of the Volkosk stone, but it's too grainy to see any real detail." She did some clicking, then spun the laptop to face him. It was indeed grainy and poorly lit, but he could make out a chunk of rock as tall as a man, with strange runic glyphs carved into it.

"And your boyfriend can translate that?"

She gave him an amused look as she lit the clove cigarette, the flickering flame setting high cheekbones in sharp relief. "Yes."

"So he's your boyfriend."

"No, he isn't. He's my cousin, kind of. Third cousin twice removed or some crap like that. Anyway, we were close growing up, so it's more like brother and sister than anything else."

Sully pushed the bourbon across the table and sat opposite her. "So what's your story? How did you get into this treasure-hunting thing at your age?"

"You don't know how old I am," she pointed out. "Besides, as I said, I try to keep it as cerebral as possible. I've spent my share of time on digs, lying in the sand with a sieve and a paintbrush, and I've spent countless hours poring over dusty tomes in libraries. But every now and then I find myself in Egypt dodging militia, or running from mercenaries in South America. I've killed men. Always when I had no choice."

He nodded. "Hence the gun. What about your family?"

"Don't have any. Parents split before I was born. My dad raised me. He was a bounty hunter, got killed on the job when I was fourteen. Pretty much been on my own ever since. I guess the whole hunting thing must be genetic. What about you?"

"Nate's the closest thing I have. He's like a son to me. Never been married, no children."

"Perpetual bachelor, huh?" Cassandra took an unflinching sip of the bourbon. "I've been living a really strange life. Sometimes I go from a desert in Jordan to a library to Alexandria to a forest in Peru in the space of a week. Kind of puts guys off, I guess. Nobody's interested in dating a woman who spends half her time covered in dust and the rest of it shooting people."

"All in a day's work." Sully shrugged. "You're not meeting the right men. I don't find that intimidating, I think it's sexy as hell."

She gave him a long, searching look, and then she smiled. "Maybe I am meeting the right men."

There was a knock on the door, and Sully rolled his eyes at the interruption before getting up to open it. It was Nate, and he coughed immediately. "Not you too," he said, nodding to the kretek. "Between the two of you the lung cancer will probably kill me before the undead whatevers." He opened the window, and sat on the edge of the bed as close to it as he could manage. "I made a few calls. I'm having IDs made for us. We'll need convincing clothes, and a good camera."

"We can get that in Norway," Cassandra said. "I'll do some research and decide on which camera will be best. A suit is a suit, so that's not difficult. How long will the IDs take?"

"Should have them in a couple of days."

"And then I can get us to Norway," Sully said.

"Get us to Norway?" She frowned. "We're just catching a flight, right?"

"I have a plane."

"You're going to _fly_ us there?"

"Sully's a good pilot," Nate said. "I fly with him all the time, and I'm still alive."

"Yeah, but you're an adrenaline junkie. I don't know if my heart could take it." She paused. "Can I smoke on board?"

"Civil aviation regulations prohibit smoking on board all aircraft," Nate said immediately, sounding so much like a stewardess that they both snickered.

"Those laws don't apply to private planes," Sully said. "Technically you're not allowed to smoke cigars at all, but I've never paid attention to that. I don't mind if you smoke, I intend to be smoking myself."

Nate groaned. "Sully..."

"It's a long way to Norway, unless you haven't noticed."

Cassandra shrugged. "If I can smoke and you promise not to kill me, no problem."

"Smoking comes before your life?" Nate raised an eyebrow. "Your priorities are weird."

"I guess." She finished the bourbon, set the glass on the table. "So, Nate. Married?"

"No."

"Girlfriend?"

"May I ask why you're asking?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm just making conversation, I'm not trying to get into your pants."

He seemed to take offence to this. "Why not?"

That gave her pause. She was at a loss for words. "Well...uh, because I'm just not. I mean, it's no offence to you or anything...is that really so strange, that I'm not trying to sleep with you?"

"Yes," came two simultaneous answers.

"Oh."

"And yes," Nate said. "I have a girlfriend."

"He's dating a reporter," Sully put in. "It's more exciting than it sounds."

"And what about you?" Smoke streamed from Cassandra's nostrils. She toyed with the glass in front of her. "Girlfriend?"

"Nope."

She tilted her head. "Really?"

"Really."

Nate cleared his throat. "Well, um, anyway, I'm getting kind of hungry, so I was thinking of maybe getting dinner. Nothing too fancy, just a burger or something from the restaurant downstairs..." He trailed off. "Okay, this is the part where someone says something."

"I'm a little hungry," Cassandra agreed. "I could handle a burger."

Sully stood up. "Might as well."


	3. Chapter 3

Norway was a beautiful country from the air, craggy mountains, green fields, and azure rivers winding through gorgeous valleys. And Sully was a good pilot; there had been no incidents save Nate complaining vociferously and constantly about smoke. They took a taxi to the hotel where they had booked a room. It was the closest to the museum they had been able to find, a neat little place with two beds and a pull-out, and they weren't planning to stay more than a few nights.

Nate looked at Cassandra across the table. "You know this is crazy, right?"

"And breaking into a museum isn't?"

"Well, yeah, but...I've done that before."

"And you got caught."

"Because Harry Flynn was a lying son of a bitch," Nate said impatiently. "We were golden until then. In and out, no problem. Impersonating a federal agent...that's riskier. Easier to get caught. Probably carries a higher penalty, for all I know."

"Maximum of five years," she said promptly. "I don't know what the penalty for theft of a historical artifact in Turkey is."

Nate rubbed his forehead. "I think Sully and I should go in. No offence – it's just, well, you look a little young to be a federal agent."

"That might be true, but I've done this kind of thing before. If I go in with Sully it'll be a typical partner setup, with me as the junior agent and him as my veteran mentor."

"So...what about me?"

"You sit tight and wait. We'll go in, take the pictures, and come back here as soon as we're through so I can email them to Daniel." She held up her cell phone. "Anything happens, we'll call you."

"You might not be able to call if anything happens," he pointed out.

"Do not call us every ten minutes to make sure we're alive," she said sternly. "Nate, you're too young to be this paranoid."

"Look, I was every bit as careless and carefree as you up until a few months ago. Shit happens, and mostly, it happens to _me_. I've dealt with war criminals, pirates, undead Spaniards, crazy mercenaries, cursed treasure. I've learned my lesson. I cover my ass from all angles now." He drummed his fingers on the desk, and sighed. "But it's a pain. I keep wanting to just jump in and go hell-for-leather all around the world and get into sticky situations, just like old times."

"But?"

"But..." He clenched his hand into a fist, and then spread his fingers out along the wood. "I'm seeing someone. You know, I'm in an actual relationship. And it's working. So...I can't just be careless with my life anymore, as much as I might want to."

"So where is she?"

"Somewhere quiet, hopefully. I didn't tell her where I was going. I made her promise not to ask. The last couple times she ended up with me...well, you know the stories about El Dorado and the Cintamani Stone."

"Yeah, Sully told me all about El Goddamn Dorado." She smiled. "Listen, Nate – I know you probably don't want or need relationship advice from me, but if she's still with you after everything that happened in South America and Tibet...she's more than earned the right to come on your adventures if she wants to. Elena, right? Sully mentioned her. Sounded like she could hold her own, too. Maybe you could use the backup."

"I thought about all of that. Kind of. I just want to keep her safe. And I want to keep myself safe, because of her." Nate trailed off as realization dawned, and then he facepalmed. "Now that I'm actually _listening_ to myself, I sound like a crotchety old lady and I should probably take up knitting as a hobby. Christ, what the hell. I'm _Nathan Drake_, for crying out loud!"

"Welcome back," Cassandra said laughingly, and opened the door for Sully.

He held out a bag. "I had to guess at your size."

"Well, I sure hope for your sake that you guessed right."

"Me too. Camera's in there, I got what you asked for. And here are our credentials." He pulled out two leather cases, and flipped one open. "Caitlin Scott. This would be yours."

She took at, and peered at it with interest. There was a gold shield with an eagle and engraved lettering, and a laminated ID with her picture on it. "These look really official. Are they actual FBI badges?"

"Kid, have you ever seen an actual FBI badge? Most people haven't. How the hell would a museum desk jockey know the difference?"

"Good point." She hefted the bag. "Okay, I'm going to get changed."

* * *

><p>The suit fit perfectly, and as she pulled back her hair Cassandra had to admit that she looked the part. The pumps weren't too high and still looked suitable for field work. She clipped the ID case to the inside of her jacket and buckled her holster around her waist, into which she settled her Glock. It was chambered in .45, not the typical nine-millimeter rounds that were standard for federal agents, but she doubted anyone would be able to tell, and her jacket did a good job of concealing the weapon anyway.<p>

Nate was pacing the living room, evidently frustrated by being forced to stay in the hotel, and his eyebrows rose when he saw her. "I take back what I said. You look _exactly_ like an FBI agent from the movies."

She pulled out her ID and flipped it open. "Special Agent Caitlin Scott, FBI."

He nodded. "You'll sell it. Knowing Sully, he'll sell it even harder. I am absolutely ceasing to be worried." He moved to the bar and pulled out a bottle of beer.

"Damn." She turned to see Sully nodding at her approvingly from the bathroom doorway. He wore a single-breasted black suit and white shirt, and it became him so well that she immediately could not imagine him wearing anything else. "I see I got the size right."

"The pants are a little tight."

"No, the pants are fine."

Cassandra smirked at the intonation and slung the camera around her neck. "Got your gun?"

"Check."

"Rented black car waiting outside?"

"Check."

"Well, then we should be good to go." She glanced at Nate. "You all right here by your lonesome, Grandma?"

He rolled his eyes. "The day I pick up knitting needles, I'll let you know. Like I said, I'm not worried. You two got this covered." He raised his beer to them. "Good luck. See you guys later."

* * *

><p>Outside, Sully looked at her. "What'd you say to him?"<p>

"He talked about Elena. I said some stuff. He realized he was being a paranoid old lady."

"About goddamn time." He started the car. "How far is this museum?"

"Not very. Just across town." She unfolded a map and scanned it briefly. "Okay, that's easy. There's a main road, just stick to it and we'll know when we get there."

"Gotcha."

Cassandra lit a kretek and wound down the window. She tilted her head back, smoke streaming from her nose. "I hate all these anti-smoking laws. It's like every few years the world decides it has to have an issue with a certain segment of the population and pass a bunch of shitty laws, and right now it's the smokers who are getting it. You know in some countries it's illegal to smoke in your own house if you have a maid? Because that makes it a workplace?"

"Sounds like a load of bullshit to me." Sully puffed on his cigar. "Laws are just guidelines, kid."

"You need to stop calling me that."

He glanced across at her. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, I know it's a habit. It's just...it makes things weird, because..." She trailed off. "I don't know where I was going with that."

"No, you know where you were going. Hell, _I_ know where you were going. You're just doing the whole 'leaving it unspoken' thing. I'll stop. Last thing I want is for you to start calling me grandpa. That would be...awkward."

She smiled, and admitted quietly, "You do know where I was going with that."

"Mind if I try that?" He nodded to the kretek.

"Never had one?" She held out the slim brown cigarette, and he handed her the cigar in exchange. "I love them. Used to smoke ordinary cigarettes, then I smoked cigars, now I guess I'm kind of in between the two."

"The clove is a nice touch," he commented. "But it's..."

"It's sweet. Yeah, you get used to it. If you kiss me right now you'll taste it on my lips." She paused, and abruptly blushed scarlet.

Sully pulled up the handbrake at the traffic light and gave her his full attention. "Will I now?"

"That didn't come out right. Actually...that came out exactly how I meant it, but..." She sighed. "I really need to stop talking."

His eyes lingered dangerously long on her, but then the light changed and he returned his attention, albeit reluctantly, to the road. She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She needed to be careful with what she said. He swapped the kretek for the cigar, and she pulled on the clove cigarette like her life depended on it.

The museum was easy to spot, a majestic building with pillars out front, and Sully parked the car neatly at the side of the road. "Well, here we are." He flicked ash off his cigar, then realized it was merely a stub and ground it out in the ashtray.

"You ready for this?" she asked.

"You might not know this," he said dryly, "but I wasn't born old. I've had many more years on this earth to do things you probably can't even imagine. Also – Nate doesn't know this – this isn't my first time impersonating a government official."

She smiled. "After you, Agent Smith."

* * *

><p>The hall was white marble, and Cassandra's heels clicked audibly as they marched up to the front desk, where a blond man looked up. "May I help you?" he asked in excellent English.<p>

"Special Agent Marcus Smith," Sully said, and held up his badge. "I'm with the FBI. This is my partner, Special Agent Caitlin Scott."

Surprise showed on the blond man's face as he peered confusedly at the ID. "Er, good morning, agents. My name is Erik Hansen. What can I do for you?"

Sully looked surprised. "We're here to examine the Volkosk Stone. You should have received a phone call yesterday to advise that we were coming." His eyebrows came together in a frown, and he turned to Cassandra, who looked down at her shoes. He sighed. "This will be going in my report, Scott."

"I'm sorry, I –"

Sully cut her off, turning back to the man. "Special Agent Scott is still in her probationary period. Occasionally she fails to meet expectations."

There was a flicker of sympathy in Hansen's eyes. "The Volkosk Stone, of course. May I ask what interest the FBI has in an ancient artifact?"

"As you should be aware, there is currently an ongoing project to translate the engravings on the stone. The Norwegian government has – confidentially – requested the assistance of US federal linguistics experts. We are here to take detailed photographs of the object for study."

"Uh..." Hansen seemed to digest this, then nodded. "Of course. This is sensible. Please, this way." He started down a corridor, then paused. "Are you armed?"

"All federal agents carry licensed firearms, Mr. Hansen."

"I only ask because we have metal detectors."

"Then I imagine we'll set them off." Sully looked squarely at the man.

He deflated. "Of course," he said, and beckoned them to follow. One beeping metal detector, several winding corridors, and a few doors later, Hansen led them into a room where the slab stood behind a glass case. It was perhaps seven feet tall and two feet thick, with an irregular shape and edges worn smooth by hundreds of years. Lines and lines of runes were carved into its surface.

"You'll need to unlock the case for the photos," Cassandra said, "otherwise the glass will reflect the flash."

Hansen paused, but delved into his pocket and brought out a key. He opened the door and then stood back, seemingly unsure if to leave or stay.

"You may remain," Sully said. "It's understandable that you would wish to ensure the safety of the stone, even if from federal agents."

The man coloured. "I do not think you would damage it, but I am responsible, and if anything were to happen –"

"Scott," Sully growled, and Cassandra looked up from where she was adjusting the settings on the camera. "We are on a time limit here. The plane leaves in an hour."

"Yes, sir," she said in a mildly embarrassed tone, and began taking pictures. The flash lit up the entire room. She took several high-resolution shots from different angles, some up close on the runes, others from further back to show the entire sequence. "I think we're done here."

"Thank you, Scott." Sully turned to Hansen. "If you wouldn't mind escorting us back outside?"

"Certainly." He locked back the case and they walked back down the corridors. "Do you think your linguistics experts will be able to assist in the translation?"

"Well, that's what the pictures are for, son. Dead languages aren't my field, this run is purely for Special Agent Scott's benefit." Sully nodded to him as they got back to the front desk. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Hansen."

"Glad to be of service, agents."


	4. Chapter 4

Back in the car, Cassandra grinned as Sully immediately lit a cigar. "See? That was easy."

"Acting natural is the key. You were great." He put the car in gear. "I hope those pictures are good."

"They're excellent. Daniel will have absolutely no issues with the quality."

"Good. Back to the hotel?"

"I guess. I'm hungry, but Nate might panic if we're gone too long."

"Nate? Nate's heard of cell phones. What do you feel like eating?"

"God, anything but rakfisk."

"What?"

"Fermented trout." She grimaced. "Smells like ammonia, and tastes like...well, you can imagine."

"Not asking." Sully rolled down the windows to let the smoke out. "We passed a restaurant on the way here, want to try that?"

"Sure." She leaned back in the seat, and smiled at him. "By the way, you look absolutely fantastic in that suit."

* * *

><p>The restaurant wasn't much more than a small café, but the food was hearty. They got a table near a window, and Cassandra had the mutton stew while Sully had fried sausages with potatoes and vegetables. "Have you never heard of hakarl?" she was asking.<p>

"No, what the hell is that?"

"Fermented shark. It's terrible."

He gave her a look. "Why do you know so much about fermented food?"

"Did you know that there's a bar in New Zealand that sells apple-infused horse semen as a shot?"

Sully almost choked on his sausage. "_What_?"

"Yep. People also eat deep-fried spiders, rats, duck foetus..." She trailed off. "Oh God, I'm sorry. You're eating."

"It's okay." Over his surprise, he had resumed his meal. "I have a strong stomach."

"I can talk about anything in the world while eating and it doesn't put me off my food. I tend to forget that not everyone else is the same way." She winced. "I'm sorry."

"No, it's fine. Really." He speared a potato on his fork. "People really eat duck foetus? What does that even taste like?"

"No idea. What's the weirdest food you've ever eaten?"

"Depends, different things are weird to different people. I've had kopi luwak, a lot of people think that's strange. It's –"

"Civet cat shit coffee." She grinned. "It tastes great, I don't think it's weird at all."

"Hmm." Sully looked thoughtful for a moment. "Cobra burger?"

"You've eaten cobra burger?"

"Uh-huh, in Indonesia." He shrugged. "Tastes kind of like chicken. If that's not weird enough, I've had fugu, alligator, camel. What about you, what's the strangest thing you've ever eaten?"

"Ostrich, maybe. Culinarily speaking – and yes, I know that's not a word – I'm not that adventurous."

"But you freely impersonate federal agents and shoot people."

"We all have our quirks." Cassandra set down her fork and pushed aside the empty bowl. "I'm full."

"Yeah, I'm done." He sat back in the chair. "So if I kiss you now, will you taste like mutton?"

Her heart stopped. "What?"

He smirked. "Caught you off guard?"

"Yes. And yes, if you kiss me now, I'll taste like mutton. Not very sexy, I'm afraid."

He shrugged. "Maybe I like mutton."

"On a girl?"

"Do you like sausage on...no, bad idea, I'm not going to finish that."

She laughed. "We should get going."

"I think we should have a drink."

"Are you a whiskey man?"

"Whiskey, tequila, beer...I can knock 'em back like nobody's business. Years of practice. I think it's pretty much between beer and schnapps here. Pick your poison."

"Beer, I guess."

He got up from the table and went to the bar, and came back a few minutes later with two beers. "I took care of the bill," he said. "Mind if we drink these in the car?"

"You want a cigar, huh?"

"You know me too well, k –" He paused. "Cassandra. Cassie? Cassie."

She smiled.

* * *

><p>"Wow, these are really good."<p>

Cassandra nodded, enlarging one of the pictures to its full resolution to show him the incredible detail. "It's a ten megapixel camera. These files are huge. I'm attaching them to the email now, it's going to take a few minutes with this internet."

"Sure your friend can translate this?"

"Better than almost anyone on the planet," she assured him. "Daniel knows what he's doing. But it might take a little while."

"How long is a little while?" Nate asked, perching on the edge of the table.

"I don't know. A few days, maybe. So we can either kill some time here while we wait, or go to Germany."

"Germany?"

"The private collector, who has Lifthrasir's helmet? That's where he lives. He owns a lot of old Norse artifacts, keeps them all at his compound on Rügen Island. It's north of the mainland, not very many residents but quite popular with tourists."

Nate rubbed his forehead. "Is he by any chance a rich guy with super tight security, guards, laser whatever systems, what kind of thing?"

"He's rich," she allowed, "and I'm sure his security is tight, but as far as I know, he just has guards with dogs patrolling the grounds and bars on all the lower windows. Locked display cases, obviously, maybe a safe or two, but only the doors are alarmed. I've made arrangements for a friend of mine to carry out surveillance on the property so we know what we're dealing with, the pictures and notes should be in my inbox by tomorrow."

"Well, you certainly do your research." Nate frowned, and looked around. "Where'd Sully go?"

"He said something about having a drink with a friend. Some guy who owes him money."

"You're sure he didn't say some guy _he_ owes money to?"

"Positive."

Nate scratched his head. "This just gets weirder and weirder..."

"Okay, the pictures are attached. And...sent." Cassandra turned back from the laptop. "All right. I guess we have some free time now."

"And then tomorrow night we're going to Germany. Why can't any of these things be somewhere tropical?"

"Maybe because the Norse were from Scandinavia?" She shrugged. "Just a thought."

He stretched, and cracked his neck. "I guess we should get some rest. Never know when you might have to break into a mansion and rob a rich man."

"I thought I might go see where Sully went."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Weren't you with him all afternoon?"

"And?" She stood, buttoning her jacket. They hadn't yet changed out of their official clothes. "If he's not in the bar downstairs, I'll come right back up. Scout's honour."

"You were a Scout?" he asked as she made to close the door behind her.

Cassandra's head reappeared momentarily. "No."

* * *

><p>The bar on the ground floor of the hotel was nearly empty, but the wooden shelves were stocked with a truly impressive variety of alcohol. She brushed her fingertips idly over the polished walnut as she eased onto a stool and perused the available options. Sully was down at the other end, engaged in a quiet conversation with a man in a terrible shirt, and he was toying with an empty glass.<p>

The bartender, a dapper young man with otherworldly blue eyes, came to her. "May I help you?"

"Bourbon, neat, and if you could send a glass of your best single malt scotch to the gentleman in the suit at the end of the bar, I'd be much obliged." She paused as she drew out the pack of kreteks. "Can I smoke in here?"

"Not since 2004." He leaned in conspiratorially. "I have a bench just out this side door that I use for my cigarette breaks, if you don't want to walk all the way out to the front."

"I think I'll take you up on that, thank you." She picked up the glass of bourbon as he slid it across the bar, and pushed open the door. The side of the building faced a stone wall, beyond which she could see the tops of trees. It was dark, just the faintest sliver of moon showing, but there were what looked like hundreds of stars in the sky.

Cassandra gazed up at the sky for a long moment. She tilted her head back, and the building slipped out of her peripheral vision until she could see nothing but the diamond-studded velvet sky. It was dizzying, and she sat down on the wooden bench to let the world make sense again before she put a kretek between her lips, and began searching her pockets for the lighter.

There was that familiar noise of a flint being struck, and a brilliant orange flame sprung to life not far from her face. She looked up, startled. Sully raised an eyebrow, holding the silver lighter closer, and she leaned in to light the kretek from the flame. "Thank you."

"I should be thanking you. This is some excellent scotch." He held up the glass, swirling the amber liquid.

"Your glass was empty. I saw your friend with you, so I didn't want to interrupt."

"Every time I see him, I remember why I don't see him more." He sat down on the bench next to her and cut the cap off a fresh cigar. "He's a cheap bastard with bad taste in alcohol."

"And clothes."

"That too." He looked at her. "Nate still in the room?"

"He said he was going to sleep." She exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, watching as it drifted and swirled among tiny currents. "We need to go to Germany tomorrow. The helmet we have to get, that's where it is. I'll have surveillance reports by the morning so we can decide how we're doing this."

"Nervous?"

"A little. I guess that's normal, considering what I do for a living. I don't imagine very many people aren't nervous shortly before they commit burglary." She shrugged, playing with the ring on her finger. "At least we're not going in unprepared."

"Taking guns?"

"No. A shot fired in there and his entire guard contingent will be on us like dip on a chip."

Sully smiled. "Hope you're good at staying hidden."

"I hope so too."


	5. Chapter 5

Cassandra rose bright and early, uncurling herself from the pull-out, and checked her email. An enormous file sat in her inbox, something like fifteen pictures and a full written report. She glanced through them – there were aerial photographs of the entire compound, closer shots of the building from every angle, and a detailed write-up of how many guards, their general routes around the property, and the helpful fact that Murphy tended to be out every night from eight until one o'clock in the morning. She had to remember that she owed Eric a giant bottle of Jagermeister – his favourite drink – at the very least.

"What the hell are you doing up so early?" Nate asked blearily, scratching his chest through his T-shirt.

She looked up to where he was framed in the bedroom door. "I got the email."

"Mind always on the job, huh?" He sat down. "What's the score?"

"We should leave soon, so I'm going to print these out so you and I can study them on the way."

"What about me?" Sully asked, appearing. Unlike Nate, she had never seen him with uncombed hair, and his clothes were never crumpled. God alone knew if he spent all his time changing.

"You're flying, you're not reading anything while my life is in your hands thousands of feet above the earth."

"Good point." He checked his watch. "Ready?"

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>At the hotel in northern Germany, they spread the material on the table. Murphy was clearly fond of landscaping, as the driveway was lined with an impeccably trimmed hedge and there was a veritable menagerie of topiary animals scattered throughout the grounds. The photos of the building were detailed enough that she could see every ledge and balcony, and it was just a simple matter of planning a climbing route.<p>

"You'll drive," she said to Sully, and tapped a small trail that wound past about half a mile from the edge of the compound. "Leave us here. We'll walk the rest of the way, climb the wall. The hedges will make good cover, so it's just a matter of not getting caught. The helmet is on the fourth floor, in a room with no windows, somewhere about here." One fingertip hovered over a section of wall.

"This one is unbarred." Nate pointed to a smallish window on the third floor, on the eastern side. "We can probably climb up like this." He traced the route they would take, ledge to ledge to balcony to ledge. "The lighting isn't that good on this side, and tomorrow night there'll be no moon, so that's the perfect time. If all goes well, we can get back out the same way."

Cassandra nodded. "Internal security doesn't seem to be very tight. I couldn't get anything about the layout of the house itself, but once we're careful not to alert anyone we should be golden. Murphy's out every night until one o'clock, so we can go for just after eleven, it'll be dark enough, and we can get in and out with plenty of time to spare."

"We sneak in, get the helmet, sneak back out, head back to the 4x4, and we're out of there." Nate folded his arms. "Sounds...easy."

"The helmet is in a display case. We'll need to pick the lock. There are no alarms or fancy security systems, just old-fashioned guards with guns and a case with a lock. I'm assuming you know how to pick a lock."

"Yes, I know how to pick a lock. And I have a kit."

"Good. We should have earpieces to stay in radio contact. Sully, you'll need to keep an eye on what's going on. Night-vision binoculars. Let us know where the guards are as we're going in and when we're looking to come back out."

"I have night-vision gear," Sully said, "and we have radio equipment from previous jobs. That's not a problem."

"Well, looks like we're all set, then." She nodded. "Do we need anything we don't have?"

"Nope." Nate shook his head. "As long as you have black clothes and shoes that won't make noise."

"Covered."

"Then we're good."

* * *

><p>The night of the job was black as pitch, and Cassandra couldn't see a thing as Sully wound the 4x4 down a rough coastal road and then off onto the trail. The man could drive, that was for sure; if she ever needed a getaway driver, she would definitely keep in touch. Hell, who was she kidding, she was definitely going to stay in touch anyway.<p>

He pulled in behind some scrubby brush, and shut off the engine. The lights of the place flickered in the distance, but with no light from the moon it would be that much harder to spot an intruder. And she and Nate were prepared to be very, _very_ quiet.

It was a good vantage point, as Sully proved when he held the binoculars up to his eyes. "Looks just like your friend said. I see about...eight guys. Two the east, one to the west, five out front. From the report I guess the other two are out behind the building. I guess you can jump the wall here, when no one's looking, and make your way around to the east."

"Sounds like a plan." Nate put in his earpiece and took a breath to steady himself. "Okay. Remember – stealthy. Low and slow. We have time, don't worry about that. We just need to make no one sees us."

"I got it." Cassandra put her hand on Sully's shoulder. "See you when we get back."

"Good luck," he said, but they were already gone.

* * *

><p>There were no lights outside the compound, so it was easy to use the brush as cover and head for the wall. Two men stood by the gate, but they looked bored and the tone of their voices seemed to indicate that they were deep in an impassioned conversation. Cassandra didn't know much German, but the few words she caught told her they were arguing about a girl.<p>

"Give me a boost," Nate whispered, and she cupped her hands.

He clung to the top of the wall and peered over carefully. "Looks clear."

"Now," Sully said in their ears.

Nate vaulted the wall and dropped down behind a conveniently placed topiary of a massive dog, and a couple seconds later Cassandra was next to him. They poked their heads out, checking for eyes on them, and moved from landscaping feature to landscaping feature until they crouched in the shadows next to the massive hedge. Crossing the driveway would be the biggest risk, but once they managed that it would be easy going around the building.

Sully's voice came through. "Gotta make this quick. Go when I tell you, both of you."

Nate eased up to a break in the hedge that they could squeeze through, looked across the driveway at a similar break not far away. Behind him, he could hear Cassandra's breaking quicken with the adrenaline.

"_Now_."

They didn't even check, trusting completely in Sully, and darted out across the driveway, keeping low to reduce their visibility. Nate squeezed through the space, pulling her behind him, and they hunkered down behind the hedge to catch their breath for a moment. He put his hand on her shoulder and nodded. They didn't dare speak.

They repeated the manoeuvre of moving from cover to cover on the eastern side, until they were behind a large topiary that had been lovingly shaped into a lion. It was amazing how well done they were, all instantly recognizable as the intended animal. Then again, Murphy was a perfectionist, and would settle for nothing less than the best.

Nate looked up at the wall. There was a guard a little lower down, and they could not go until he had rounded the corner and out of sight. And even then, they would have to make it quick. He glanced back at Cassandra. _Ready?_ he mouthed.

She nodded grimly, and Sully gave the word. Nate dodged out from behind the lion and ran for the wall. There were planters and window ledges, and he leapt for the first one, bracing his feet against the concrete before jumping to the next. They worked their way up the wall and to a small balcony, where they rested for a couple seconds before climbing up to the unbarred window.

Nate hung onto the ledge with one hand and gingerly tested the window with the other. It opened soundlessly, and he pushed it all the way in before hoisting himself up a little further to look inside. It seemed to be a bedroom, and it was clear. He slid through, and helped Cassandra up.

"Congratulations," Sully said. "Now make your way to the fourth floor."

Getting around inside the house was easier. They could hear guards on the bottom two floors, but there were none on the upper ones, so they slipped out and up the stairs. On the fourth floor, Nate paused by a locked door and drew a mirror from his backpack.

"Now is not the time to be admiring yourself," Cassandra murmured.

He rolled his eyes and slid the mirror under the door, angling it to see the contents of the room. "Not this one."

They checked a few more like that before the first flash of the mirror under an ornately carved wooden door revealed a mass of display cases, some glass, others solid. "Here," he said, and pulled out his lockpicking kit. He was evidently pretty skilled in breaking and entering, because in less than a minute he turned the handle and the door opened.

The room was huge and windowless, lined with display cases that contained artifacts of all kinds. There were simple pottery shards, drinking horns, sword hilts, a few helmets of indecipherable origin. "Which one is ours?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "None." Her eyes found a large wooden cupboard against the wall. "It must be in there."

"Sure?"

She moved closer. Each case had a small scribbled note on it giving a brief rundown of the things inside, and the solid cupboard was no different. She scanned it, and sure enough, there it was. "Yes, it's in here. Go."

Nate crouched next to the lock and eased in the torsion wrench and pick. This one was not as easy as the door, and he gave a soft curse as he wriggled the pick in the lock. Cassandra stood by the entrance, keeping watch just in case.

Sully's voice crackled through the earpiece. "A car's pulling up in the driveway. Looks like Murphy's home early. Get out of there."

"Almost done," Nate whispered, and leaned closer to the lock, angling the pick. He swore softly. "This damn pin..." Just then he heard the click, and turned the wrench. The door swung open, and the helmet stared out at them. "Mother of mercy."

Cassandra reached past him and picked it up. It was made of metal, but unlike any they had ever seen, a glossy gunmetal silver carved with runes. Two huge white diamonds glittered from its eye sockets. It was well preserved and extraordinarily well crafted. "We'll admire it later," she said. "Sully, which way is safest?"

"Murphy's already inside. Patrols are heaviest out front, seems like the west will be the easiest way out. There's an unbarred window a couple rooms down from you. Go for it."

Nate made sure the helmet was padded and zipped his pack shut as quietly as he could. "Okay, moving out."

The corridor was clear. They darted across, keeping low, and spied the window through a door that was ajar. Faint voices sounded downstairs. There was no telling where Murphy was headed, so it was important that they make themselves scarce. Nate eased open the door, and a giant canine head in the corner raised in response.

He froze. "Oh _shit_."

The dog was enormous, a mountain of shaggy grey fur with bright dark eyes. At first it just regarded them, but then it stirred and got to its feet. At the shoulder it came easily to Nate's waist. He flicked a glance at Cassandra, whose face wore an expression of panicked indecision.

"What the hell are you doing in there?" Sully wanted to know.

"Dog," she whispered.

The great head swung in her direction, and it sniffed the air. Apparently they didn't smell like whatever it was looking for, because lips peeled back from absolutely terrifying teeth and the deepest growl Nate had ever heard in his life rumbled from its chest. He dared to take a step forward, further into the room, and the dog fell silent, tilting its head curiously. He took another step. The window wasn't far, maybe they could make it.

The next step did it. As Nate's foot touched the hardwood floor, the dog let out a bark that sounded like cannon-fire, and the faint voices raised at once. He grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Run!"

"Run where?" she asked as he dragged her across the room, and then she realized what he meant. "You're insane!"

"Maybe," he agreed breathlessly, and they leapt through the window in a spray of broken glass to land painfully on a small balcony below. Sully's voice was in their ears, asking a million questions and saying 'goddamn' a lot, but they had no breath to answer. Nate dropped down from the balcony to a ledge under a window, and Cassandra followed him as they clambered down the façade. They could hear excited voices and the giant dog barking above them, and then Nate dropped the ten feet to the grass and rolled, bruising his shoulder on a rock, and they were running like the wind.

"Sully," Cassandra panted, "change of plans."

"They're on your trail, but I don't think they've seen you yet. What do you want me to do?"

"Don't get involved, Nate and I are going to try to lose them on the beach."

"We are?" Nate hurtled over the fence, wincing at the pain in his shoulder.

"You don't think that's a good idea?"

"Have you ever seen a fjord?"

The tree cover had ended, and there was a stretch of scrubby grass ahead of them followed by a long steep slope down to a rocky beach. Cliffs rose to the left and right. "Water's gonna be cold," she said grimly.

"It'll short out your earpieces if you go in," Sully said. "So if we lose contact, head west. Just keep going. I'll find you."

Nate glanced over his shoulder and made out some movement far behind them, but the night was too dark to see anything specific. It was why they had chosen to wait for the new moon. He dropped down over the lip of the slope, and half-ran, half-fell down it to the beach. Cassandra kept pace, but she was limping, and he could hear snatches of curses from her. "You okay?"

"Twisted my ankle," she gasped. "Doesn't matter. Come on!"

They pelted down the beach, and Nate looked back again. Now he saw moving spots of lights; there were some smart guards among them who had walked with flashlights. _Please_, he prayed silently, _I'll climb anything, just no swimming_.

They ran around a curve that put them safely out of sight, and Cassandra pointed to a dark fissure in the cliff wall that waves lapped against. "Cave."

_Goddammit_. "Looks like we're going swimming, Sully," Nate said tiredly, and tried to brace himself for the water.

No amount of bracing could have prepared him for the utterly frigid temperature of the Baltic Sea. Nate gasped even as he waded in, cold numbing his extremities in no time at all. Cassandra struggled into the water, teeth chattering audibly, and they struck out for the small crevice, current surging and pushing against them.

The sea wasn't too rough, fortunately, or they would never have made it. The helmet in his backpack weighed Nate down, but he was a strong swimmer and he sliced through the swells until the black entrance loomed above him. He grabbed the rock, his arms almost refusing to work, and hauled himself out of the water and into the mouth of the cave. It was bigger inside than he'd thought, centuries of water had eroded a sizeable corridor through the cliff.

"A little help," Cassandra ground out through clenched teeth, and he pulled her up out of the surf and into the cave. The rock walls were slimy, and he could barely see anything, but he held onto her arm and together they felt their way into the darkness.

"They won't find us in here." Nate was shivering. "Don't think Murphy pays them enough to take on water this cold."

"I – I think it goes all the way through." Cassandra wrapped her arms around herself, then apparently thought better of it and wrapped her arms around Nate. He hugged her tight to him, pressing back into a nook that took their feet out of the water. "Sorry, it's just so _cold_."

"No, it's fine." He clung to her, desperately trying to regain some semblance of warmth. His blood was ice in his veins, and she was shaking hard, vibrating like a guitar string. They stayed like that for a couple minutes, until Nate could move his fingers properly again. "Better than dying of hypothermia, right?"

She raised her head from where it was buried in his shoulder to look at him, and there was a moment of awkward silence. "Uh, just don't tell Elena."

"You don't tell Elena and I won't tell Sully, deal?"

She sputtered, and then gave up. "Deal."

"Don't tell Sully what?"

Nate jumped about a foot in the air when the voice came through the earpiece. "Christ! You scared the crap out of me, I thought these things were dead from the water."

"Guess you kept them dry enough," came the answer. "What the hell are you two doing?"

"Uh, staying warm." He winced. "Not by...not by doing whatever you're thinking. Uh, anyway, do you have a visual on the guys who were chasing us?"

"They're searching the beach. Nobody looks inclined to go into the water, so I think you're safe. Wherever you are, put your pants back on and head up the bluff. I've got the jeep up here."

"My pants are already on!" Nate yelped. "And by that I mean that they were never off."

"Nate," Cassandra said, and disengaged herself from his grasp with a grin. "He's just playing with you, don't feed the troll."

"Who are you calling a troll?" Sully asked.

"It's just an expression," she growled, and began to feel her way through the tunnel the waves had carved, trying to stay on the rock and out of the water as far as possible. "Get your mind out of the gutter, my virginity is still intact."

Nate asked disbelievingly, "You're a virgin?"

She shot him a glance. "That's also just an expression. Come on, I'm going to be a goddamn icicle if we spend any longer in this cave."

The exit of the crevice was also out in the water, but closer to shore on this side, so they waded back to shore through chest-high waves and staggered up the rocky bluff to where they made out the faint glint of metal in the darkness. Sully had parked the jeep as close to the edge as he could get it.

"I'd offer you a blanket," he said as they got in, "but we didn't think to bring any."

Nate rolled his eyes and turned the heater up to full blast. "Just drive."


	6. Chapter 6

Cassandra tilted her head back and let the hot water pour down her face. Hours later, she was still half-frozen from their swim. Steam filled the room. Nate had already been through the bathroom while she had made herself a cup of coffee and tried to let it thaw her from the inside out, which hadn't worked. His sodden clothes were in a pile on the floor next to hers.

Regretfully she turned off the water, and squeezed out her hair before wrapping herself in a fluffy towel. The rooms were warm enough, but her bones still felt faintly icy. She opened the door that led into the bedroom, and almost had a heart attack when she saw Sully reclining on the bed. He held one finger to his lips; he was on the phone, and his face was deadly serious. "I understand," he said to the person at the other end. "Looks like we're shit out of luck. Thanks, Don."

"Who was that?" she asked as he clicked the receiver back into place.

"A friend of mine. Been in the business a long time. I told him what we were looking for, and the countries we've been in – no more information than that. He just got word that Zoltan Fabian is after the Eye, and he's dead set on getting it."

"Zoltan Fabian." Cassandra frowned. "Why does that name sound so familiar?"

"Because he's a big warlord in Eastern Europe. And apparently he's in collusion with Lemarc Chateau. That one might not ring a bell, but he's an arms dealer. They have some kind of deal going on, they both want their hands on the Eye and I guess Chateau is supplying Fabian with weapons..." Sully trailed off, distracted. "Are you naked?"

She glanced down at the towel, and blushed. "Uh, I just came out the shower."

"Oh." His eyes slid up and down. "Well, it looks like we're going to have some pretty stiff competition. Fabian has the men, and Chateau has the guns, and there's only three of us."

"Maybe you should tell Nate."

"I intend to."

She waited a beat, but he didn't move, and she was beginning to feel distinctly warm from the way he was looking at her. "No, I mean maybe you should tell Nate _now_ so I can put on some clothes."

"Uncomfortable?"

"You're looking at me like I'm food."

"Maybe you are." The barest hint of a smirk played around his lips.

Her blush deepened. "Well, um, be that as it may..." She couldn't find a way to finish the sentence, and her eyes darted around the room frantically searching for something else to look at besides him.

The door opened. "Hey, Sully –" Nate stopped, and looked from Cassandra in a towel to Sully on the bed. "Am I interrupting something?" Cassandra said no and Sully said yes at the same time, and then stared at each other. "O...kay...I'll just...be outside, then."

"We have a problem," she said.

Nate dared to look back over his shoulder into the room. "We who?"

"We as in the three of us. We have competition for the Eye."

He sighed. "Great. Let me guess, is it a secret organization hell-bent on world domination this time? Actually, you know what, as badly as I want to know what the hell you're talking about, for Christ's sake, _put some clothes on_," Nate said, and shut the door behind him.

Sully looked at her. "See, even he says it can wait."

"We don't have time for this," she said lamely.

"Your friend hasn't finished the translation for us yet, we have all the time in the world right now." He got up off the bed and moved around it. The smell of tobacco and sandalwood aftershave filled her nostrils, and she felt the breach of her personal space as completely as if he had launched himself into her arms. "But you'll get cold if you don't get dressed." He ran one finger along her shoulder, which broke into goosebumps instantly.

Cassandra just looked at him mutely, mind caught between a voice that tartly informed her that she was being ridiculous and needed to just put on some damned clothes, and a much softer voice that whispered that she should drop the towel and throw him on the bed. Her hand twitched where it held up the towel, and as though she were in a dream, the other hand rose slowly to his face. His cheek was surprisingly smooth. Her fingertips grazed down the line of his jaw, and her thumb traced the curve of his lower lip.

And just like that, her trance was broken. Horror filled her – what was she _doing_? She looked up and met his gaze. His eyes were a deep green, she noticed, laced with a stormy grey, and they were absolutely unfathomable.

Cassandra took a step back. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'll just change in the bathroom." She grabbed her bag from the floor and beat a hasty retreat, before he had a chance to say anything.

* * *

><p>She took her time dressing, although it was just jeans and a T-shirt, and by the time she emerged from the bathroom Nate had obviously been apprised of the situation with Fabian and Chateau. He was sitting at the table, one leg pulled up, a beer in front of him, and a thoughtful frown on his face.<p>

"I see you heard," she said tentatively.

"Oh yeah, I heard." He sighed. "I'm not surprised. It's just, you know, this was going so well. No complications, for a change."

"Is that sarcasm?"

He looked at her strangely. "No."

"Oh. Well, I guess the huge dog that wanted to eat us and our swim through the Baltic Sea earlier hardly count as complications when you compare that to a warlord and an arms dealer." She pulled up a chair and opened her laptop. "What are we going to do?"

"Try to stay one step ahead." He rubbed his forehead. "We have the helmet, we can't stop now. Eventually Fabian will realize he needs the helmet to get the Eye, and he'll hunt us down. So...we just keep going. As fast as possible." He looked over at her. "Has your friend gotten back to you yet?"

"I'll tell you in a moment." Cassandra checked her inbox. "Okay, he's translated the first part. It tells of how Odin learned the runes by his agony on Yggdrasil, and then of how he went to Mimir's Well and gave his eye as a sacrifice. No surprise there. The actual location is a little hazy, he said he's only gotten as far as 'on the side of the world serpent'."

"The world serpent?" Nate's eyebrows knitted. "What the hell does that mean?"

"I don't know. Jormungand is the world serpent, Loki's son, long enough to wrap around the world and forever biting his own tail. But what that means in terms of directions...I have no idea. He says he should have more tomorrow. I guess we just wait."

"Great." He drummed his fingers impatiently on the table, and then tilted his head at her. "Did I interrupt something earlier?"

"No, I came out of the shower and Sully was on the phone."

"Yeah, but I could smell the UST like a stink."

"UST?"

"Don't tell me you don't know what that means." He raised an eyebrow. "Unresolved sexual tension?"

"There's – there's no unresolved – we are not having this conversation." She stood up abruptly, and took refuge in the kitchen, where she pulled the coldest beer she could find from the fridge and paced like a caged animal.

"You know I can see you, right?"

She looked over the counter at where Nate was watching her amusedly. The kitchen was separated from the living area only by a waist-high counter, a fact she had momentarily forgotten in her agitation. "Shut up," she said irritably, and opened the beer. Then she realized that it was just the two of them in the room. "Where'd he go, anyway?"

"To a bar," he said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Where else?"

Cassandra eased herself up onto the counter and took a swig of beer. It made her bones freeze all over again. "Maybe we should join him. I mean, we had a hell of an evening...we need to relax. And I know that I look like a mess, but you don't really look any better either."

He seemed to agree. "Good point."

"Do you know where he went?"

"I've got an inkling." He pointed at her. "But you are not going dressed like that."

She looked down at her dark blue T-shirt and jeans. "Why not?"

"You're a _girl_. You're going to meet a _guy_. Jesus, do I have to spell everything out for you?"

"Since when did you become a fashion expert, Mr. I Always Wear The Same Clothes?"

"I'm not going to wear a designer suit to hunt treasure. That doesn't mean I don't know how to dress." He drained his beer, and came over to set it down next to her on the counter. "Cassie, I'm not an idiot. You like Sully. Sully likes you. A blind man could see it. So get your head out of your ass. You have ovaries, _use_ them."

* * *

><p>She eventually settled on the white shirt she had worn to the museum in Volkosk, and the heels with her jeans. A little eyeliner and lip gloss later, Nate finally approved and they took a taxi down to a neat little bar on the coast. The drinks were reasonably priced, and the wind coming in from the Baltic was bracing. Nate bought them beers, and gave her a stern look before wandering off.<p>

Sully wasn't hard to find. He was at the very end of the platform, leaning on the railing and looking out over the dark sea. There was an empty whiskey glass next to his elbow.

She moved to stand next to him. She caught the flick of his eyes as he noticed her, but he didn't say anything. For once, she decided to listen to the little voice, and not the loud one. "I'm an idiot," she said without preamble. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For how I acted earlier. For freaking out."

"That was my fault." The wind ruffled his hair. "I should've just let you get dressed."

"No." She shook her head. "It's not about that." She struggled for the words and couldn't find them, and she laid her hand gently on his back. "I was an idiot. Me, not you. I froze up and I ran away, when really...that's not what I wanted at all."

He turned his head to look at her. "Really."

"Yeah. It's just...a self-defence mechanism, I guess. I only ever pay attention to the loud voice that tells me to stop dicking around and get on with business as usual, I never listen to the quiet one that tells me what I really want." Her hand moved on his back, sliding up between his shoulderblades. His warmth seeped up into her fingers through his shirt. "I need to not shut everybody out."

His eyelids fell to half-mast as he tilted his head back as her hand reached his neck. Emboldened, she let her fingers feel through the hair at the back of his head with gentle pressure, and he bent his head down to let her rub his neck. "You're right," he said finally. "Still, I should've used better judgement. That wasn't a good time."

"Well, that's why we're here, I guess." She looked around at the bar, the clinking of glasses and murmur of people. The soothing sound of the surf relaxed her. "Unwinding from earlier. If you'd seen that dog –"

"I heard it bark," he said. "Nate said he thought it was a bear."

"It did look like one," she admitted. "Then we had to run down the beach, and swim through that freezing goddamn water..." The memory made her shiver.

Sully put an arm around her shoulders. "Still cold?"

She leaned into his body, and half-smiled. "Not so much, right now."

"I think I need another drink," he said. "What about you?"

"I'm good with this for now." She held up the beer. "Nate's somewhere around."

"Give him some time to himself, he needs to relax. I'll be right back." He headed for the bar, and Cassandra turned back to the ocean. The wind was out to play tonight, whipping the waves into a froth. The rolling motion was mesmerizing; she found herself completely captivated by the way the black water tossed, the thundering crash of the surf as it washed up on the beach.

"Penny for your thoughts, pretty girl?" An unfamiliar British-accented voice broke into her reverie, and she turned to see a tall man in a suit standing next to her. "Haven't seen you here before."

"First time," she said. "I'm just visiting."

"All by yourself? That's a pity. Germany's a lovely place. I could show you around, if you'd like."

"I'm not here alone."

He made a show of looking around. "Well, unless you've got invisible friends, it seems you're alone right now. You know, my hotel's not far from here..."

"Does that line actually work on anyone?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Listen, I'm not here alone and I'm not interested in you. Now, as you Brits say, bugger off."

He laughed. "No, that line doesn't work at all," he admitted. "And I wouldn't have used it either, except I've probably had a few too many of these to be exercising proper judgement." He held up an empty glass that had possibly once contained whiskey. "My name's Daniel."

She eyed him carefully, then decided he seemed all right. "Cassandra," she said, and they shook.

"Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. How long are you here for?"

"Leaving tomorrow."

"That's a shame." He shook his head. "I'd love to see more of you. I mean, see you more. Oh, bollocks."

She smirked almost against her will. "Too many whiskeys will do that to you."

"Do you want a drink?"

She nodded to the beer in her hand. "No, I'm fine. Thanks, though."

Daniel gave a gallant bow, the effect of which was lessened only slightly by the faint sway he did upon straightening. "Anything for you, sweetheart."

A warm hand descended on her shoulder, and she looked up to see Sully behind her. He set his glass on the railing, and the other arm snaked around her waist to pull her back against his chest. "Is he bothering you, darling?"

The display took Cassandra by surprise, but she reined it in. "No, no. It's fine."

Daniel seemed to get the hint. He nodded to her, and made a gesture as though he were tipping an imaginary hat. "I do hope you enjoy the rest of your stay," he said with a smile, and walked back to the bar.

"Who the hell was that?" Sully wanted to know.

"How the hell should I know? Some drunk British guy named Daniel who uses terrible pickup lines when he's sloshed." She shrugged. "He's harmless."

Sully gave a noncommittal grunt, still eyeing the man. "I saw Nate. He's knocking back tequila. I guess I know who isn't driving."

"How many of these have you had?" She tapped his glass, and he gave her a look. "Right. Well, then I guess I know who _is_ driving." His arms were still around her; she was trapped between him and the railing. She turned in his loose grasp, and looked up at him. "Are you going to let me go?"

"Should I?"

"I haven't decided. You're making an excellent electric blanket right now." She put her beer on the railing and snuggled into his chest, inhaling the blend of smoke and musky, soft cologne. Over his shoulder she caught a glimpse of Daniel, who seemed to be casually glancing in their direction. "I think you made my drunk British admirer jealous."

"Good," Sully growled, and she laughed. "At least he has good taste. You look gorgeous."

"Nate dressed me."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Not like _that_." She rolled her eyes. "I mean he badgered me into wearing this. And the makeup. Did he play with dolls when he was younger, by any chance?"

Sully smirked, and swirled the scotch around in the glass before taking a sip. Faint lines spread across his forehead. "Are you scared?" he asked her. "I know you said you've done your fair share of shooting and dealing with mercenaries, but this is Zoltan Fabian we're talking about. If you want out, I would never blame you."

"Nate made a good point earlier. We have the helmet, and we know the helmet is necessary to get the Eye. And sooner or later Fabian will know this, if he doesn't already, and he'll track us down and do whatever he has to do to get it. So...we have to keep going." She pulled back, looked up at him. "Are you having second thoughts?"

"Me? No, this is par for the course with Nate. Nothing is ever simple, there's always a series of enormous gunfights, a shitload of climbing, and occasionally a suicidal leap off a ledge in the middle of nowhere. I'm getting too old for this shit, but I ain't there yet." He drained his whiskey. "I'm going to have one more of these and call it a night. Let's go scrape Nate off the floor."

Nate's table was full, and he was in the process of regaling some eight or nine captivated listeners with a tale of how he once outsmarted smugglers in Indonesia. Cassandra appeared behind him, leaned down, and spoke into his ear. "Nathan Drake," she said in as stern a voice as she could muster. "A word with you."

He blinked, then smiled at the small crowd. "Looks like I'll have to finish my story another time." A chorus of groans erupted from everyone at the table, but Nate stood, picked up his glass, and traipsed off somewhat unsteadily after Cassandra.

"Quit staring at my ass," she said without turning around.

His eyes snapped up immediately. "I was not – how did you know?"

"Because you're drunk and this is the tightest pair of jeans I own." She raised an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. "Believe it or not, this isn't the first time someone has stared at my ass."

"Oh, I believe it."

Sully had an elbow on the railing, whiskey cradled neatly in the cage of his fingers. "Good thing I brought aspirin."

"Why would I need aspirin?" Nate frowned.

"For your hangover in the morning." Sully held up a hand. "Trust me, I know these things."

"I'm the only one who'll get away, and that's only because I'm driving." Cassandra eyed the two inches of beer left in the bottle. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, and she glanced at the number. "I gotta take this." She stepped away, one hand over her other ear.

Nate looked at Sully. "So are you guys gonna stop pissing around and fuck, or what?"

One eyebrow rose, the other following close behind it. "Come again?"

"You heard me." Nate reached for the railing. He missed, because he was seeing two railings and he had reached for the wrong one. He tried again, and wrapped both hands securely around the wood. "She dressed up. She's pretty. This isn't like you."

"I'm just trying not to rush things."

"I know, and that's not like you at all." Nate realized he was leaning a little to the left, so he tried leaning more to the right. It didn't work. "You shouldn't beat around the bush, Sully, you'll get thorns in your ass."

"I don't think I've ever seen you this drunk," Sully said in frank amazement, catching Nate's elbow and tilting him back upright. "Maybe you should sit."

"Guys." It was Cassandra. "That was Daniel. He finished the translation. The full sentence as given on the Volkosk Stone is 'on the side of the world serpent, beneath its black ribs, Mimir's well lies cradled'."

"Great. What does that mean?"

She shook her head. "No idea. He didn't have any brilliant suggestions either."

Sully sighed. "I think we should head back to the hotel. Nate here's had more than enough."

Nate looked up blearily. "I'd nod, but the world is moving too much."

"Yeah, let's get you out of here." Cassandra hooked one of his arms over her shoulders, and they wove through the crowd to the door.

It was dark outside, and Sully had parked the jeep at the other end of the parking lot. A broken streetlight flickered above, and Cassandra had just enough time to notice the glass scattered on the ground before she heard the all too familiar sound of a gun being cocked, and closed her eyes. _Shit_.

"You know you're only wasting bullets doing that," she said calmly, raising her hands, even though it was difficult considering she was half-supporting Nate.

"I didn't chamber a round for that very reason," came the voice. It was oddly accented; she could not tell what country he was from. "Turn around, slowly. You too, old man."

They turned. It was such a typical scenario that Cassandra almost sighed. There were three tall, bulky men dressed in black, and a black car idling behind them. Guns glinted in their hands. The man closest to her had the muzzle of his pistol mere inches away from her forehead.

"Well, hello." He grinned. "Aren't you pretty?"

"What do you want?" Sully growled.

"Don't want no trouble with you, Grandpa. We heard your little buddy here spinning some yarns about a certain trinket our employer is interested in." He leaned in, prodded Nate's forehead with the gun. "He won't be much help to us now, but he'll sober up, and when he does, he'll talk. He'll sing, in fact. Hand him over."

"Or what?"

In a flash, the gun pressed an icy ring against Cassandra's temple. "Or I'll kill your pretty girlfriend. Or better yet, maybe I'll take her with us."

"You don't touch her." Sully took a step forward, and the circle of weapons rose to meet him.

"Whoa, cowboy. Don't you move. Just give us Drake." The man held out his free hand. "Pretty please? We'll be gentle, don't want to damage the goods."

Cassandra gritted her teeth, but there was nothing she could do. They weren't armed, and Nate was pretty much passed out. Reluctantly she unloaded him to the man, and stepped back next to Sully, watching as they eased their cargo into the backseat.

"Maybe we should shoot 'em anyway," one of the other men suggested.

The second grinned. "I think we should take her with us. Could be fun."

"Leave them," the first man ordered, gesturing to the car. "We have our orders, and you know what happens if we don't follow them. Best not to get distracted." He closed the car door behind the two men, and bowed almost courteously to them. "Sorry for the inconvenience. Do enjoy the rest of your night."

"Son of a bitch!" Sully burst out as soon as the car was gone. "This is all my fault."

"No, we all decided to come here tonight. I guess Nate got drunk enough that he let his guard down and said something about the Eye, and someone working for Fabian was here tonight." Cassandra touched her temple, still feeling the cold touch of the gun. "We have to find out where they're taking him."

A dull groan reached them, and she turned to see what looked like a bag of trash stirring. She kicked the bag aside, revealing Daniel, clothes torn and face was covered in blood. "Holy shit." She knelt by his side. "Are you all right?"

His eyelids fluttered open, and he coughed. "Cassandra, isn't it?"

"Yes." She helped him sit up. Sully hovered nearby, clearly not sure what to do. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Three blokes. I was out here, heard them shoot out the light. Same ones who took your friend."

"Listen to me, Daniel. This is important." She smoothed the hair back from his face, used her thumb to wipe a trickle of blood that was crawling down his forehead. "I need to know where they took him. Did you hear them say anything at all that could help me figure out where they went?"

He pressed a hand to his ribs, wincing, and dragged the back of his hand across his mouth. "Something about a fort in the mountains. And...something about a guy named Fabian.

She nodded. "I know about Fabian. The fort in the mountains – did they say anything else? A name?" She looked at at Sully. "Call an ambulance for him."

"No." Daniel waved a hand. "No, I'll be fine. I've had worse than this." He leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes. "Svet...something. Does that mean anything to you?"

Sully was already in the truck, rummaging through the glove compartment for a map. Cassandra put her hands on Daniel's shoulders. "Can you move?" she asked him. "Move your arms, legs, fingers, toes. Make sure nothing's broken."

"My ribs," he said tightly. "At least one. And...probably a concussion."

She eyed the knot on his head. "Yes, probably." There were bruises blooming on his cheekbone and around his eye, and his lip was split. "Are you sure you don't want to go to a hospital or see a doctor?"

"Sure." He managed a smile. "But if you can drop me off at my hotel I'd be much obliged."

"Cassie." It was Sully. He held up the map. "Svetovid. It's an old fort on a cliff twenty miles west of here. Used to be a tourist attraction but they closed it because of structural instability."

"Perfect place for Fabian to hole up." She knelt, got Daniel's arm around her shoulders. "Help me with him, we're taking him to his hotel."


	7. Chapter 7

They left Daniel in his room with the phonebook open to a list of doctors next to him and went back to their hotel. Cassandra changed into the clothes she had used on the heist with Nate, and her black jacket over it for the cold. The weather was beginning to turn grey and stormy. Her gun went into a thigh holster, and she looked over at Sully. "I guess I'm ready."

"There are going to be a lot of men there," he said. "We need hardware."

"Do you know where to get guns in Germany? Because I don't. And God knows what's going to happen to Nate – Fabian doesn't mess around, he'll do whatever he has to to find out what he wants to know. We can't wait." She put her hand on the pistol on her thigh. "This will have to do. But a gunshot will trigger the alarm, so as far as possible we have to try to be quiet. Stealth mode, understand?"

He put the map on the table, followed the road with his finger. "Svetovid is at the top of a steep hill, at the edge of a cliff. There's forest everywhere else around it. We can get to here in the jeep." He tapped the end of a thin red line. "We can drive further, but it'll be better to leave the vehicle here and continue on foot. I wish we had a little more to go on."

"I know. So do I. But I guess we just have to work with what we have." She pulled a balisong from her bag and opened it one-handed, eyeing the blade. It was high carbon steel, the handles inlaid with mother-of-pearl, and the edge was honed to razor sharpness. "This will be messy, but I might need it."

Sully had his pistol at his lower back. "Ready?"

Cassandra looked around the room, going through a mental checklist. "Ready."

* * *

><p>The storm was out with a vengeance by the time they pulled the 4x4 off the road and left it hidden behind a stand of trees. The rest of the mountain continued above them, thick with vegetation that would provide excellent cover. They wound their way through the forest, hiking up the slope in the pouring rain.<p>

The fort was an enormous stone building overlooking a cliff that fell away to a steep ravine. Mossy wall extended up into the sky, the windows not much more than openings in the walls. An iron gate blocked the entrance to the courtyard, and trucks lined the open area out in front. It was a fortress, virtually impregnable except by cannonball. Someone had tried to reinforce the wall by bolting a metal grating into it, but this too was green with lichens and rusted through in places.

"There," Sully whispered, as they crouched behind a tree, and pointed to a window all the way up at the top of the tower. He wiped the lenses of the binoculars. "I can see Nate, and one guard. Doesn't mean there aren't more."

"Judging from all the trucks, I'm guessing there are a ton of them. There might only be one with him, though." There was the low rumble of an engine, barely distinguishable from the thunder, and they got down on the ground as another vehicle pulled up and parked not twenty feet from them.

A short man with a shotgun climbed out of the driver's seat. He was on the phone. "Sure, boss. No problem, everything's under control." He looked over at his partner, who was big enough that he showed no strain cradling a machine gun in his arms. "The boss is coming. Heli should put down in an hour. He wants to interrogate Drake himself. Get the men to finish setting up in the courtyard, we need to have this place ready for when he gets here. No slip ups, you understand?"

The bigger one grunted his assent, and as they walked they must have radioed ahead, because the iron gate ground and clanked as it raised. They ducked under, the gate slammed back to the ground, and they were gone from sight.

"Shit," Sully breathed. "Fabian's coming in an hour, and they've got more firepower than those boys defending Fort Knox. What are we going to do?"

Cassandra bit her lip. "We can't go through the building. So I guess there's only one way."

He followed her gaze to the metal grate. "Cassie, _no_."

"Listen," she said urgently. "I have to do this. There's no time. You heard the man, Fabian is getting on a chopper now. We have at most an hour before he arrives. The fort is crawling with guards, there's no way we can get in there. This is the only way." She tilted her head back, squinting through the rain. "Think of it as...I'm just climbing a ladder."

"Yeah, a hundred and fifty feet of mossy, slippery, metal ladder, in the middle of a thunderstorm!" Sully gripped her shoulders, forcing her to meet his eyes. "We'll find another way."

"When Fabian gets here, he's going to kill Nate, or take him somewhere we can't follow, or worse. That can't happen." She fixed him with that stare, that fearless, resolute stare he couldn't back down from. "I can do this. I _have_ to do this. You have to trust me."

"I do trust you, it's just..." He closed his eyes, and exhaled. "Goddammit. You're right. I know you are. But this is crazy. Lightning could strike. You could fall. And then I'd lose you both!"

"You won't lose either of us." She was kicking off her shoes.

"Have you done this before?"

"No. I have not done anything remotely like this in my life. But there's always a first." She handed him her shoes. "Hang on to these. I can't wear them up there, it's slippery and I need my toes to help my grip."

"I can't believe you're so calm about this," he marvelled. "Listen, Cassie...when you come back down...I'd like to buy you dinner."

She smiled. "Thank you. I accept." She tightened her ponytail, and took a breath to steady herself. Then she looked at him thoughtfully. "I'm forgetting something extremely important."

"What?"

Cassandra put a hand on his chest and backed him into the tree, where it was dry, and kissed him. Her body pressed against him, one hand fisting in his hair, and then she pulled back. She was a little out of breath, but she smiled. "More of that later?"

"Yes," was all he could say, and he could still feel her lips on his even as she started to climb.

* * *

><p>The wind roared in her ears, plastering her drenched clothes to her body and biting all the way through to her bones. She squeezed her eyes almost shut against the torrential rain, and got a white-knuckled grip on the next bar before she shifted her feet. It was actually just like climbing a ladder, although the grid sprawled halfway across the face of the fort and stretched up nearly two hundred feet. The bars were thickly coated in moss and parts were so rusty they looked as though they would not bear her weight, and the sudden crash of thunder sent her heart into her throat.<p>

Cassandra gritted her teeth and continued, adrenaline surging through her blood. She could barely hear the creaking over the din of the storm, but the shuddering of the metal she was holding let her know in no uncertain terms that what she was doing was insane. She kept up a steady litany of curses as she climbed; strangely, they seemed to help keep her fear at bay.

Freezing rain sheeted down her face, blinding her, so that she was moving almost completely by feel. She did not dare wipe her eyes or look down, but hooked her toes around the bars for leverage and reached up for the next rung. It broke apart in her hand, and she made a panicked grab for the one next to it. It held. She stayed perfectly still for a moment, catching her breath, and made it up the next twenty or so feet without incident.

The gridwork stopped about five feet under the window of the room they knew Nate was in, so getting inside was going to be tricky. Metal groaned, and the section she was on jarred as the stone crumbled and the bolts slipped. Moving faster than she ever thought possible, she hauled ass up the face of the wall, pushing off with her feet and catching the bars above her with her hands. She was absolutely soaked, and her body shuddered with a mixture of cold and adrenaline.

At last, she was at where the bars ended, and she saw the shadow of the guard above her as she got as high as she could. He was standing right in front of the window, his back to it. She heard the guttural grunt of a foreign language, and then she took the chance.

It was madness, and there was absolutely no reason for her not to have died right there, but she planted one foot on the top frame and lunged for the window. Her arm went over the ledge, numb fingers gripping the lip on the inside, and she grabbed the guard's collar and dragged him out the window. His body fell past her, and for one dizzying, terrifying moment she thought her hold might slip, but then she heaved herself in through the window and hit the stone floor awkwardly.

"Holy shit," Nate said in awe. "How the hell did you – did you climb up – where's Sully?"

"He's at the bottom in the trees, he's safe as long as he stays hidden." There was no feeling in her feet, but Cassandra got up and made quick work of the ropes tying him to the chair with the knife from her back pocket. "The guards called Fabian and told him you're here, he's coming in on a helicopter. We have to be gone by the time he arrives."

"There are a crapload of men in the building, the two of us can't make it through there. I guess we have to get back down the same way you came up."

"Yeah..." She grimaced, shivering. "It's not going to be easy. Some of the bars are starting to come loose from the wall. Are you sober enough to climb?"

"I can make it." He touched her face, concerned. "Cassie, you're freezing. Your lips are blue."

"No time. If they find out you're gone we'll be sitting ducks on the way back down. And it's a long way, trust me."

"Well, there's this." Nate knelt and picked up the pistol the guard had dropped. "We need to go. As quickly as possible."

She pointed to the window. "Ladies first."

"Cute." He gave her a smirk, and leaned over to take a look at the escape route. "Jesus. How did you make it up here?"

"Carefully." She swung a leg over the ledge and eased herself down to the frame. "See where the wall is white? Try not to climb there, it's crumbling."

"Right." He dropped down next to her, and instantly swore at the rain.

Down was easier than up, but it wasn't any safer, and there were a few heart-stopping moments when her feet slipped on the mossy iron. She saw Sully beneath them, but only because she knew where to look; he was almost completely hidden in the bushes. Lightning flashed, blinding her completely, and she climbed half the way down with brightly coloured spots dancing in her vision. She cast a quick glance at Nate; he looked similarly dazed.

"When we get back to civilization," he shouted over the thunder, "I'm getting a desk job. Screw this treasure-hunting bullshit."

Her teeth were chattering so hard she couldn't laugh, but she managed a half-smile, and then they were there, and Sully pulled them into the relative shelter beneath the tree cover. "You two look like death warmed over."

"Good to see you too," Nate said, wrapping his arms around himself. "Tell me we don't have to hike all the way back down the mountain like this."

"Kid, you know how to hotwire a car?"

"No, I don't think I ever learned that one."

Sully rolled his eyes. "Amateur," he said, and they ran through the rain to the truck the machine gunner and his shotgun-toting friend had left parked at the very end of the driveway.

Cassie climbed into the backseat, wiping water from her eyes, and slipped her feet into her shoes. There was a duffel bag on the floor, and she pawed through it. "We got guns," she said, and pulled out an M16 and an AK-47.

"Great," Nate breathed, hunkering down in the front. "Sully, where did you learn to hotwire a car?"

"I'll tell you later." He had pulled off the panels around the steering wheel, wiped his hands on the upholstery, and was stripping the ends of two red wires. He twisted them together, and all the dashboard lights lit up. Just then there was the sound of angry voices, barely audible over the heavy rain. "Ah, shit."

"Sully, you better hurry up." Nate rolled down the window and leaned out of it with the AK. "I think they noticed I'm missing."

"Almost there." He stripped a brown wire, and gingerly tapped it against the connected red wires, and the engine fired up. "Okay, hang on," he said, and put the truck in reverse.

Gunshots cracked as the truck slewed around, and Sully mangled the gearshift and put his foot on the accelerator. Cassandra turned in the backseat, and ducked just as the back glass shattered. Swiping the shards off the seat with her jacketed arm, she stuck the muzzle of the M16 out the back and let off a short burst of suppressive fire, and then they were around the corner and sliding down the slick mountain roads.

"Jesus, Sully, we just had a near-death experience on that wall." Nate wasn't wearing his seatbelt, so he was bouncing around in the seat, head coming into contact with the ceiling. "Don't kill us now."

"This isn't their only truck," Sully said. "We need to get the hell out of here and off the road before they can find us, because Fabian should be here any minute and he is going to be pretty goddamn pissed when he realizes you've escaped."

"There," Cassandra said suddenly, and pointed to a break in the vegetation to the right. Without warning, Sully spun the wheel and they rocketed off the road and into the brush, jolting over broken branches and onto a beaten trail. "I have no idea where this leads, by the way. It could take us into worse trouble for all I know."

Nate eyed her. "You're just a right ray of sunshine, aren't you?"

"Glad to be of service," she muttered, and hung on to the driver's seat for dear life.

The truck had been fitted with good off-road tyres, which was all that really saved them from getting stuck as they careened – far too quickly for unknown terrain – down the trail. The storm was in full swing; even with the wipers on overdrive outside just looked like a mess. Scenery shot past, and then they skidded down a small hill and spun sideways onto an actual road.

Sully drove a little more carefully on the asphalt, and they relaxed slightly as it became clear that nobody was following them. "We need to ditch this truck and get back to the hotel," Nate said. "I heard them talking, they know the Well is in Jotunheim, but I think that's as far as they've gotten for now."

"Jotunheim is one of the Nine Worlds of Norse mythology. It's a mythical place, but since we're believing in the impossible lately let's say that it's a real location. Norse myth came out of Scandinavia – where is now Sweden, Iceland, Finland, Denmark, and Norway. The Well has to be in one of those places." She shrugged. "That doesn't really narrow it down much, so it won't help them. Of course, we're no closer to knowing where it is either."

"Yeah, but your friend translated the inscription on the stone..." Nate screwed up his face in thought. "On the side of the world serpent, beneath its black ribs...something."

"Well, we know the world serpent is Jormungand, that's easy. He wraps all the way around the world with his tail in his mouth, and –" She stopped, and her jaw fell open. "I am an _idiot_."

"Why?"

"There's a national park in the highlands of Iceland, named...I can't pronounce it, Icelandic is a hard language. But anyway, the point is that there's a mountain there, that has the old name – in the English translation, anyway – Jormungand's Loin."

Nate made a face. "Ew."

Cassandra rolled her eyes. "No, not like that. Ever eat a pig? This is the loin," she said, and laid her hand on her side just below her ribcage. "Beneath its black ribs...that must be a landform or something."

"So we're going to Iceland?" Sully asked, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror as he pulled up next to their 4x4.

"Looks like it."

"Goddammit."


	8. Chapter 8

Iceland was just as cold as its name suggested, and Sully put the plane down at a small landing strip just outside a little town that was as close to the highlands as they could get. "You made arrangements for the 4x4, right?" Nate asked for the twelfth time.

"Yes, I made arrangements for the goddamn 4x4. It's waiting at the hotel."

"I'm just saying, the last time I let you handle transport –"

"That was three years ago."

"And what, you've become a responsible adult since then?"

"I hate to interrupt this lovely snarking that you two are doing." Cassandra leaned forward between the two seats. "But can we focus on the matter at hand?"

Nate sighed. "Okay. So _assuming_ the jeep is there –"

"Goddammit!"

"– we jump in it, drive across the lava fields to as close as we can get to Jormungand's Loin and climb it. We're taking a satellite phone, and you –" He pointed at Cassandra, who was long out of her seat and sorting out her bag. "– need to be checking in with that friend of yours, Kevin –"

"Devin."

"Whatever. He's supposed to be monitoring air traffic, he'll tell us if Fabian comes into Iceland airspace."

"Dude, seriously." She turned back to them from where she was unlocking the door. "Stop being everybody's grandmother and let's go climb the damn mountain."

"Goddamn mountain," Sully said.

"Goddamn mountain," she corrected, and smirked. "I feel for Elena. You are going to be a nightmare when you have kids."

Nate spluttered incoherently for a few seconds, and then gave up. They got their bags and hopped out of the plane, and he fastened the coat more tightly. "Jesus, it is _freezing_ here."

"Iceland," Cassandra said pointedly. "How far is this hotel?"

Sully shrugged. "Couple miles."

"Are we walking?"

"If you want, but I thought we'd just take that." He pointed to a truck that was just pulling into the airfield. "Friend of mine. Told him we were coming, he offered to come pick us up."

"You don't happen to owe him money, do you?" Nate queried. The look Sully shot him told him everything he needed to know. He sighed. "Great. Who do you _not_ owe money?"

"Zip it." The truck rolled up, and a dark-haired man leaned out the window. "John, long time no see."

"You owe me a beer, Vic," John said with a slight smile. "I'm guessing this is your protégé Nathan Drake."

"Word sure gets around," Nate said, and offered a hand.

John shook. "Pleasure. Heard a lot about you. And who is this lovely lady?"

"This is Cassandra Barlow. I guess you know where we're going?"

"Yep, Hotel Snaefjell. Hop in."

* * *

><p>The hotel was just as tiny as the town, but the room was comfortable enough considering they weren't actually going to spending much time in it. A battered old 4x4 was parked, albeit rather badly, in the lot out front, and Nate gave Sully an approving nod.<p>

"Maybe now you'll let me live that down?"

"Not a chance," Nate said with a grin.

"Thanks for the ride, John," Sully said.

"No problem. Listen, about that beer..."

"I'm good for it."

"Yeah, you better be." John sighed, and nodded to them. "Nice meeting you. Enjoy your stay."

"Now," Cassandra said, as soon as he was gone, "we have a slight problem."

Nate raised an eyebrow. "Slight problem?"

"The roads are closed to the interior during the winter months because of the terrible weather. We won't have clearance to go there, so if anybody sees us we might get arrested."

He rolled his eyes. "What's a little risk of arrest for something as innocuous as driving?"

"An added complication we don't really need, but unfortunately we don't have much choice." Cassandra's cell phone rang, and she frowned before answering it. "Speak." The expression on her face spoke volumes. "Shit. Great. Thanks."

"Oh crap," Nate said.

"Yeah. Fabian just entered Icelandic airspace." She facepalmed. "We need to go _now_."

* * *

><p>The roads were rocky gravel, and even the 4x4 in Sully's capable hands complained about having to ford rivers swollen with meltwater. But they made it to as close to the foot of the mountain as they could, and were just about to get out when they spotted a pale figure against the black lava fields. Nate grabbed the binoculars, put them to his eyes, and promptly dropped them. "<em>Crap<em>."

"What is it?" Sully asked.

"The universe is out to get me, I swear to God," Nate said tersely, and jumped out.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow at Sully, who picked up the binoculars, trained them on the figure, and burst out laughing. "I take it that wasn't a bad 'crap'?" she asked.

"The universe _is_ out to get him. That's –"

Nate's voice drifted to them across the barren landscape. "_Elena_?"


	9. Chapter 9

"It's a story," she was saying defensively when Sully and Cassandra caught up to them. "I'm not stalking you."

"I didn't say you were – what the hell kind of story are you covering in Iceland?"

"Uh, I don't know if you've noticed, but there's ash all over the northern hemisphere from volcanic activity. Planes grounded, airports closed – stop me when this sounds familiar."

"Yeah, but that's _normal_. You don't cover that stuff."

"Well, apparently the volcanic activity opened up a fissure in the highlands, and it leads to this huge cave system where explorers have been finding all these Viking bones. A couple of them disappeared."

"The bones?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "The _explorers_. There are all these wild stories about ghosts and ancient treasure, and, well, that's my field."

"This is..." Nate tried to find words. "This is dangerous stuff, Elena. You shouldn't be here. I was trying to protect you."

"How was I supposed to know you'd be in Iceland? You didn't tell me where you were going. Listen, you said you didn't want me involved or put in danger again after my lovely experience with that grenade, so I agreed – against my will, mind you – not to ask you any questions about whatever harebrained scheme you were setting off on. I kept that promise, and now it looks like I'm in danger again anyway. I seem to get involved with everything you do no matter what we try, so just so you know, I'm never listening to you again." She poked him in the chest. "I _told_ you I wanted to come in the first place."

Nate made the most comical face, and sighed. "I know, I know. I should have told you. I was wrong. And I'm sorry. Forgive me?"

She folded her arms, but there was the hint of a smile playing about her lips. "Only if you tell me exactly what's going on."

"I will," he promised. "But preferably not in the middle of a lava field."

"I won't forget you said that," she warned him, and then turned to them. "Sully," she said with a smile, and hugged him. "Good to see you again."

"Always a pleasure, kid."

"Elena Fisher," she said, and held out a hand to Cassandra.

"Cassandra Barlow." They shook. "Since Nate is too busy spluttering to be coherent right now, I'll fill you in. Nutshelled version: we're looking for the Eye of Odin. As in, literally, Odin's eye. We impersonated federal agents and got into a museum where we took pictures of an ancient stone and had it translated, so now we have some extremely cryptic directions to its supposed location. Also, we broke into a private collector's house and stole a helmet we apparently need to get the Eye. And it's being hunted by a crazed warlord, ten million mercenaries, and his arms dealer buddy."

Nate looked impressed by her ability to condense. Elena sighed. "Why does this not surprise me? Nate, really, one of these days you need to start looking for treasure that isn't cursed, or also wanted by powerful and bad people, or that doesn't involve us taking out a small nation to get it."

Cassandra smiled. "I like you already."

"Listen," Nate said. "As much as I promise to involve you next time, we're headed to climb a mountain, and time is of the essence. So we really need to go and get this done, and inasmuch as you haven't been a part of this so far, I think we should keep it that way. Also, crazy warlord guy is on his way here, so...can I meet you back in town after, and beg and grovel for your forgiveness?"

Elena rolled her eyes. "Okay, fine. Call me and we'll make arrangements for your grovelling."

"Thank you." He hugged her swiftly. "You're amazing, really."

"Yeah, yeah." She was laughing. "Go find your eye. Nice to meet you, Cassie."

"Pleasure." Cassandra nodded. "Be safe."

* * *

><p>"That's a sign from God if I ever saw one," Sully was saying as they hiked up the side of the slope. "Anywhere we go in the world we find Elena, don't bother trying to exclude her next time."<p>

"Yes, I know, I got the memo." Nate sighed. "Okay, so we're looking for black ribs." He pulled the hat down tighter around his ears. "Presumably a geological landform. And they could be anywhere on this mountain?"

"You know better than anyone that ancient texts deal almost solely in metaphor, Nate," Cassandra said, stumbling on a rock. "The day we find some carved runes saying 'to find the treasure, go to twenty-two degrees thirty-five north and thirty-one degrees seventeen east and dig down fifteen feet' will be the day it will be possible to go skiing in hell."

"If it were that easy, it'd be found already." Sully caught her elbow as she tripped again. "Are you okay?"

"I'm clumsy."

Nate snorted. "You scaled two hundred feet of slippery metal bars but can't walk across flat ground?"

"It was a hundred and fifty."

"Whatever."

"I'm sure _you're_ not incredibly skilled in every single aspect of life. You must suck at something."

"Yeah, but it's not _walking_."

"Shut up. Come on, what's your biggest fear?"

"Why are we talking about my fears? I'm not afraid of anything. You need to keep your eyes open for black ribs."

"You need to stop changing the subject."

"Clowns," Sully said.

"_Sully_!"

"What? It's true." He nodded at Cassandra. "He's afraid of clowns."

"Clowns?" She laughed. "You can battle undead Spaniards, war criminals, and immortal yeti, but you're afraid of clowns?"

"They weren't yeti, and haven't you ever read Stephen King? Clowns are scary. I went to a circus when I was a kid, and I had nightmares for weeks. They might think they look funny in their creepy makeup and their big shoes and those weird little honky noses, but –" He trailed off and shot Cassandra a death glare. "Why are you laughing?"

She covered her mouth with her hand, smothering a grin, and straightened her face. "Laughing? I'm not laughing. Sully, what about you? What's your greatest fear?"

"There." He was standing atop a small hill of loose rock, and he pointed off to the west. "Look."

"Your greatest fear is on this mountain?"

He reached for her arm and dragged her up the hill, then turned her physically so she was facing west. He stretched out his arm over her shoulder. "Follow my finger," he said, almost in her ear.

At first she had no idea what he was looking at, but then she tilted her head to line up her eye with his finger and saw it. It was a small niche to the side of the mountain, easily a mile away and almost hidden by some jagged rock, but even from this distance she could see the hexagonal basalt columns and the small waterfall that poured down them.

"Do those look like black ribs to you?" he asked, and abruptly Cassandra dropped a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Hey, I see it," Nate said, squinting through his binoculars and oblivious to them. "Huh. So that's the Well of Wisdom? It doesn't look like much."

"Nate, we're a few hundred years late." Cassandra smiled. "Come on."

"Can it wait ten minutes?" he asked. "I'm starving, and I actually packed lunch."

"What, a granola bar? We can eat on the way. Don't forget that Fabian's still looking for this thing, and we have to find it before he does."

"We'd know if we'd been followed." Nate gestured behind them, to the huge open lava field below and the scrubby side of the mountain. "We could see a gnat blink out here. And I certainly don't see any big guys with guns, so I think we're golden."

And just then, as though his words had summoned it from the ether, a dull thumping noise reverberated around them, and Nate sighed even as they began to run. "Why do I say these things?"

"I have no idea, I thought you'd have learned by now." Cassandra wedged herself beneath a small rocky overhang. "That's a helicopter."

"Yeah, I gathered."

"The good thing about it is, it can't land here. They'll have to put down on the lava field and climb all the way up. And they probably don't know exactly where it is, I mean, it's almost invisible."

"Who said anything about landing?" Sully nodded to the helicopter, which was descending slowly onto the side of the mountain less than a mile away from them. "He's going to try to get them close enough so they can drop out."

"Pray for wind," Nate said.

Fortunately, the gods were listening, and the chopper was buffeted by a strong breeze. It came perilously close to the mountainside, blades almost scraping the rock, and then rose into the air again. It hovered there a moment, and then drifted off down toward the lava field.

"I can't believe it," he said in awe. "That actually _worked_?"

"Don't celebrate just yet," Sully replied. "It only buys us a few minutes. We gotta move."

Nate sighed. "I'll eat later."

They half ran, half scrambled over the rocks, and disappeared into the tree cover, making their way with all deliberate speed for the small waterfall as shouted orders behind them lent wings to their feet.


	10. Chapter 10

"So this is the Well of Wisdom," Nate said as they clambered up the ledge.

"You can say that as many times as you want, it's not going to look any more imposing." Cassandra shivered slightly. "I feel something."

"Cold?"

"No. Something...strange. Like a charge, almost. This feels like an old and powerful place."

Nate opened his mouth to snark, but shut it again because he knew what she meant. There was a sort of vibration in the air, a tingling almost, that started in his skin and spread through to his bones. "It feels like magic," he said without really meaning to.

"My body's singing with it." She took a step forward. "Odin's Eye must be at the bottom of the pool."

They moved to the edge of the pool, and though the water was crystal clear, the black rock surrounding it made it impossible to see anything. Yet there was a faint glow at the bottom, though they could not tell from what.

"How are we going to get it?" Cassandra asked.

"Well, I guess we have to dive." Nate unshouldered his pack and set it down. "That water's going to be freezing."

"Nate, this is the Well of Wisdom we're talking about. Odin gave his eye for a drink, I don't think you can very well just jump in and go for a swim."

On a whim, he reached his hand toward the water, and it fell back from his touch as though evaporating into the air. He moved it closer, and the liquid moved back, keeping the same distance from his hand. It was impossible to get close to it. "Interesting," he said. "Like the torment of Tantalus. So...what are we missing?"

"Mimir," she said. "He guarded the well. He's the one who allowed Odin to drink, after he gave his eye as a sacrifice to prove how important wisdom was to him. He has to grant us permission too."

Nate looked around. "Well, I don't see him anywhere."

"The helmet. Put on the helmet."

He opened his pack and lifted out the helmet. It rumbled in his hands, singing with the same kind of power as the well. "Here goes," Nate muttered, and lowered it over his head.

Nobody was entirely sure what happened next, but there was a blinding light and a voice like thunder. A long-dead language thickened the air, and then Nate wrenched the helmet off his head with a cry and threw it to the ground.

"It burned me," he said, rubbing his ears. "I guess it said no."

"Not quite." Cassandra's face was tight with concentration. "There was something about your heart and not making the sacrifice, I didn't get the rest."

"Does it want an eye?"

"I'm not sure," she murmured, and reached for the helmet as though in a dream.

"Cassie, wait." Sully grabbed her arm. "Fabian and his men are coming. If we can't get this thing, maybe no one else can either. We should just leave it. We can take the helmet."

"We can't risk them finding a way." She clenched her jaw. "I have to try. What's the worst that could happen?"

"No, no, no." Nate shook his head. "Never say that. That's Murphy's Law, you know what comes next."

"It doesn't matter." She set her pack next to his, and took off her jacket so that she stood there in only her shirt and jeans. "It will let me do it, I can feel it. Whatever happens is for the best. This is the only choice."

"Cassie –"

"No." She turned to Sully. "No. Don't try to talk me out of this, please. Because it might work, and I _have_ to do this. Like scaling that wall. You have to trust me."

"It's not a question of trust!"

Nate was startled by the emotion in Sully's voice. Quietly, he said, "What happens if it doesn't work?"

"If it doesn't work, take the helmet and get the hell out of here." She knelt at the edge of the pool and picked up the helmet with trembling hands. "Whatever sacrifice is necessary, I'm willing to make it. My intentions are pure. I'm not afraid."

"I am," Nate admitted.

She smiled. "Don't be," she said, and put the helmet on.

Again came the light, so bright it burned through his eyelids, and the hum of the magic grew louder until it was almost a roar. Nate dropped to his knees, his hands pressed to his eyes, and then the voice came, but it spoke different words. His knowledge of Old Norse was rudimentary at best, but he thought he caught a reference to Ragnarok. And then a force like an explosion threw him back to the ground, and the light was gone.

He sat up, colours playing across his vision, and looked around. Sully was flat on his back, groaning. Cassandra was gone, and the water was absolutely still. Voices clamoured not far away – Fabian's men, drawing ever closer, and they had no way to defend themselves.

"Sully," he said hoarsely. "They're coming."

"Wait."

"Wait?" Nate looked at him. Sully had sat up, and was looking at the pool, his eyes betraying nothing. "We don't have any guns. They're going to kill us if they find us. We have to get out of here."

"_Wait_." There was steel in that voice.

Nate crawled to the edge of the pool and looked down into its depths, and saw the glint of the helmet in the glow of the Eye at the bottom. And then it moved, and he made out a pair of hands, and he rocked back on his heels. "Holy _shit_."

The voices were louder now, men shouting in a grunting language. Something Eastern European, God knew where Fabian got his mercenaries. Nate glanced back over his shoulder. They would be here any moment...

Cassandra broke the surface, the helmet gleaming on her head, and hauled herself out of the water. It rolled off of her like oil, leaving her clothes perfectly dry. She looked unsteady on her feet a moment, and Nate instinctively reached out to steady her, but sparks flew from his fingertips and he yanked back his hand.

"There!" came the growl, and he turned to see a black-clad man behind him, assault rifle cradled in his arms, more coming up the hill behind him.

And then Cassandra lifted her hands and pulled the helmet off her head. She did not look normal at all, one eye light brown, and the other a pupilless shimmering kaleidoscope of colours. It burned with a fierce light, and her entire body seemed to thrum with the same vibration. One of the men raised his weapon, but before he could even put his finger on the trigger he disappeared completely, vaporized into a thin red mist that flowed leisurely through the air and into the aura of energy surrounding Cassandra's body.

The men behind him wore identical expressions of absolute terror, and as one, twenty guns clattered to the rock. She swept her gaze across them, and all that could be seen was the dust they kicked up as they raced each other down the mountain.

"Cassie?" Nate asked, and quaked as she looked at him. Her left eye was every colour at once, and he could see things in it – blood, murder, clashing swords. And then she closed her eyes and seemed to will it down, and when she opened them again it was a pale milky blue, as though blind.

"An eye for an eye," she said simply.

"Are you..._you_?"

"Yes. And no." She frowned. "It's different. I'm still me, but there's something inside of me now. A powerful, frightening thing. I can see _everything_. I see threads between everything, I know how it's all connected. The world is a web of colour, and it all means things. I know everything, but when I try to put it in words, it drifts away like a dream. I don't know how to describe it any better than that." And then she smiled. "But I'm still me."

"What about Fabian?"

"He's coming. He's not afraid. But he should be." She put the helmet in his hands, and his fingers tingled where she touched him. "This will only take a second."

Cassandra moved differently, carelessly, as she strode to the ledge and looked down. Nate made as if to follow, but Sully put his hand on his arm. "Easy. She knows what she's doing."

"Did something happen between you? I keep meaning to ask."

"Sort of," Sully said evasively. "Long goddamn story."

"Zoltan Alexander Fabian," Cassandra said. "Turn around."

"I come for what is mine," came the growl, and Fabian pulled himself up onto the ledge to stand next to her, glowering. "Even if I have to rip it out of your head myself!"

"Try."

He stared at her for a moment, thrown by her response. But then he smirked. He was bigger than her by six inches and fifty pounds – she was still a twenty-three year old girl, after all. "Try?"

"Go ahead. Try."

"How about I kill your friends instead?" he sneered, and drew a gun from his waist, pointing it squarely at Nate's head. "Or better yet, how about I kill them unless you give me the Eye?"

"How about you try to take the Eye from me, like a man?"

"You stupid bitch," he snarled, and pulled the trigger.

There was the crack of a gunshot, but nothing happened. Cassandra had not moved, but now she opened her hand and showed him the bullet lying in her palm. "Care to try again?" she asked pleasantly.

He lunged for her face, but she grasped his wrist, and he could have more easily moved a mountain. There was no change of expression on her face as she bent back his hand with absolutely no effort at all, and he screamed as his wrist snapped. Nate winced.

"Only the strong and brave go to Valhalla," she said softly. "You are a weak, selfish man. There is no glory in you. I send you to Hel's cold embrace."

Fabian opened his mouth, but nothing came out, and a fiery light shone from Cassandra's eye. She released him, and he struggled to move against invisible bonds. One hand curled around his neck.

"Cassie," Nate said, but the words died in his throat as Fabian dropped to the ground, his windpipe completely crushed. She had not batted an eyelash.

The light went out, and when she turned back to them, it was as though blind once again. "He deserved it," she said. "I saw everything he did, and why, and what he felt as he did it, and what he wished to do in the future. I was inside him. I – the Eye – judged him."

"I guess you're part god now," Nate said, and his voice shook slightly.

"Times have changed from Odin's days. There are laws now. It's not for me to judge. But Fabian would have never stopped. Ever." Cassandra reached up to her face and touched her eyelid gingerly. "It's so strange...it's blind, in the sense that it can't see what this one sees, but it sees...everything else." She looked at him, and he felt her penetrate his soul. "You're a good man, Nate."

"Lucky for me," he muttered.

She smiled. "Now my eye sits at the bottom of the Well. Don't think any warlords are going to come looking for that. But before we go, there is one more thing." She turned back to the well, and picked up the helmet.

"Oh, come on." Sully sighed. "Not even that?"

"Too dangerous in the wrong hands. This way the Well is always safe. No gods to drink from it now." She tossed it into the water, and it vanished beneath the surface with nary a ripple. "There will be other treasures. Other...less dangerous ones."

"Aha. Perhaps you could find them with that all-seeing eye of yours?"

Cassandra smiled. "Perhaps," she said teasingly.

Nate relaxed, finally. "Well, I don't know about you guys, but I'm hungry. And _cold_. I vote we go back to town and pick up Elena, and then go somewhere tropical. For a vacation. I mean, a real one. No jobs, no treasure, no pirates, mercenaries, prisons, museums, ancient artifacts. Just a beach and a cold beer."

"I second that," Sully said immediately.

"Hey, Odin, think you could magic us out of here so we don't have to climb all the way back down?"

Cassandra tried to look majestic and menacing, but it swiftly turned into a lopsided smirk. "Nope, sorry. But our jeep's still there."

"Well, I don't know about you, but I'm having that granola bar now," Nate said, unwrapping it, and he tried not to smile as he saw her link her fingers with Sully's.


	11. Chapter 11

"Goddamn, what a woman."

Nate followed Sully's gaze to where Cassandra stood looking out over the ocean, and smiled. "Yeah, she's something. Reminds me a little of Chloe, but I think her moral compass is a lot tighter. Somehow I can't see Chloe scaling the side of that fort in a thunderstorm unarmed on the off chance of saving me from the clutches of a crazed warlord and ten million guards. And that was _before_ the Eye."

"You got that right. So what comes now?"

"Now?" Nate caught the familiar shine of golden hair coming through the arch. "I got a few important things to take care of."

Sully patted his shoulder, and said through his cigar, "Go get 'em, kid."

"Thanks, Sully."

* * *

><p>She felt an arm around her shoulders, and leaned into his side without even looking. "You owe me dinner."<p>

"I owe you a hell of a lot more than goddamn dinner," Sully said, watching Nate and Elena silhouetted against the sunset. "But I guess it's a good place to start. I know a great little restaurant that makes a mean veal."

She smiled. "Yeah?"

"You ever been to Singapore?"

"You're taking me to dinner in Singapore?"

He checked his watch. "Well, it might be more like breakfast. That all right with you?"

"That sounds wonderful."

"One thing before we go, though." Sully dropped the cigar, grinding it out under his heel. "I'm keeping my end of the deal, but you promised me something too."

"You're not...intimidated?"

"By that?" He nodded to her eye. "A little. The thought of Odin's Eye...it's scary, I'll admit. But it's in you, and I'm not afraid of you."

"I'm glad," she said quietly, and then she turned to him and slid her arms around his neck, fingers threading through his hair. Her left eye sparkled, lit from within by an otherworldly glow. "I did promise you something. And I fully intend to keep my promise."

"I think they're staring at us," he said conspiratorially, and arched an eyebrow in the direction of Nate and Elena.

"Well, we'd better give them something to stare at," she murmured, and kissed him.


	12. Epilogue

Salty breeze ruffled Nate's hair. He curled his toes into the warm sand, and took a drink of his beer. Elena lay on the lounge chair next to him in a modest pink bikini, her lithe body turning slightly pink from all the sun they'd been absorbing over the last three days. She felt his eyes on her, and tipped up her sunglasses to smile at him. "Not missing the adrenaline yet?"

"Not a chance," he said truthfully, and lifted a lock of blond hair away from her forehead. Sir Francis Drake's ring glinted on the ring finger of her left hand. He'd proposed with it in the sunset the day they'd found the Eye. He had half-expected jitters of some sort, but instead he felt...content.

Cassandra and Sully were coming down the beach. She wore a black one-piece that somehow managed to seem far more revealing than Elena's bikini. Sully, in board shorts and a light unbuttoned shirt, was covered in sand, and his hair was awry. Their voices rose and fell in conversation, drifting to Nate on the breeze.

"You look like you need another beer," Sully called as they came closer. "Elena?"

"Sure, why not?" She downed the sip left in her bottle. "Thanks, Sully."

"No problem."

Cassandra picked up the towel lying over the back of her chair and wrapped it around her before taking a seat. Her blind eye bored into him – it was still unsettling, but he was getting used to it. "There's something I didn't tell you," she said without preamble.

Nate raised an eyebrow. "We're on vacation."

"I know." She shifted awkwardly, scratched behind one ear. "Remember the Well of Wisdom?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget it." The silence spoke volumes. He sat up. "What did you do?"

Instead of answering, she unzipped her bag and pulled out a small vial. She held it up to the light, and the liquid inside glittered.

Nate facepalmed. "_Cassie_!"

"Come on, I dove to the bottom of the thing and exchanged my eye for this. Which hurt like _hell_, by the way. I didn't drink any on the way, but I did take a souvenir." Her face dared him to disagree.

"But – but – gods gave eyes to drink from this thing, you can't just –" He turned to Elena. "Back me up here."

She shook her head. "You're on your own, Nate. What are you going to do with it?"

"I thought I'd offer it to you." Cassandra shook the vial. "There's enough in here for four, if we just take a sip each."

"Admit, it's kind of tempting." Sully had returned with the beers. He handed them out, and sat on the edge of the chair next to Cassandra. "Wisdom of the gods, kid. Imagine."

Nate considered it carefully. He could know everything there was to know, never have a misstep again, never make a mistake. Always know the consequences of every decision before he made it. Know who to trust, the best way out of a situation, always have the right move. The thought of knowing everything made him a little dizzy.

"I don't think so," he said finally. "Kind of takes the fun out of life if you know everything, doesn't it?"

Cassandra nodded. "When Odin drank, he saw the end of the gods. He knew how Ragnarok would unfold. Imagine knowing your fate and being completely powerless to change it."

"Is it really like that?" Elena asked. "I mean, we have free will, right?"

Cassandra looked like she was going to say something, but evidently thought better of it. That was all the answer the question needed. Nate sighed. "You can drink it, if you want. But I think I'll pass."

Elena nodded. "Life is about figuring things out. It's a journey to learn. There's no point living if you already know everything there is to know, then life would just be tedious."

Cassandra looked at Sully. "And you?"

He half-smiled. "You already know."

"I knew you'd all say no, but I had to offer anyway. Otherwise I'd be making the choice for you instead of giving you the chance to refuse on your own." She stood. "I don't need this. The Eye is enough of a blessing and a curse as it is."

"So what are you going to do with it?" Nate asked her. "If the wrong people –"

"Relax, Nate." She walked to the edge of the ocean, where it lapped her feet, and stared out over the enormous expanse of sea that the setting sun was now turning to gold, like the vastest treasure ever conceived in the dreams of thousand greedy conquerors and buccaneers. "This way everyone gets a little, and no one gets too much," she said, and poured the vial out into the water. The sea swelled for a moment, pulling back from the sand, and then gently swept back in.

"That's the right decision," Sully said softly.

Cassandra sat behind him, arms encircling his waist, and rested her chin on his shoulder. "I know what you're thinking," she said to Nate, and smiled. "Thank you."

"What's he thinking?" Sully asked.

"He thinks we're cute together, and he's glad you're happy."

"Cute?" Sully cocked an eyebrow. "I'll show you cute," he said, and in one fluid movement Cassandra was on her back on the chair, Sully was on top of her, and they were locked in a passionate and seriously disturbing kiss.

"Oh God!" Nate looked away, but not fast enough. "I...I need brain bleach," he said, trying to ignore the noises, and stumbled off down the beach. Elena laughed and followed him.


End file.
